Chuck vs The Companion
by Armadilloi
Summary: Read by 2/28. It will be deleted.
1. The Straws

T/N: Another thing from his hard drive. I don't know why he doesn't publish. He's been in HBR and Econ. Guess fiction is his alter-ego. I'm still pulling parts together. He had a weird way of putting things out there like chpt 2a.1 and 2a.2 so bear with me. I'm a math grad student not a editor! Nicole the Trypist. Also, I changed the name. he's gonna kill me.

**_The first straw._**

"So this thing of ours, this under-the-cover thing, is there a chance…"

"No, Chuck. I'm sorry. No."

_**The second straw.**_

He knocked on the door, feeling foolish dressed in slacks, his high-tops, t-shirt and white dinner jacket but Roane had given him specific instructions for the "Montgomery" and he had high hopes. When Sarah opened the door and spotted the single long-stemmed red rose and the bottle of wine she started to speak when Bryce Larkin came up behind her and said, "Hi, Chuck." He took in the dinner jacket, the rose and the wine and just grinned. Chuck apologized for bothering them and gave Sarah the wine and walked back to the elevator, slamming the rose down into a trash receptacle. He tried not to hear the laughter…

**_The third straw._**

It was purely accidental. He'd gone to check on something and had just opened the door when he saw Sarah and Cole frantically kissing. It looked like most of the effort was on Sarah's part and Cole was coolly doing his British super-secret-agent thing. He quietly closed the door, set the clothing he'd brought for Cole on the floor near the door and walked away.

**_The final straw._**

He'd asked her to spend one last night in the house in the suburbs, just to hang out, eat pizza and watch a movie, nothing related to the mission. Just one night of normal. Well, OK, if he was honest with himself, one last night of being Mr. and Mrs. Carmichael. Was that so much to ask? And she said no. Obviously she wanted to put as much space and time between the week in the 'burbs' with him as possible.

* * *

**Castle**

The video conference with the team and the general was winding down and any second General Beckman would terminate the conference with her usual abruptness so he felt it was now or never.

"And so, another mission success, if there's nothing else…" And he could see her unseen hand ready to hit the disconnect switch.

"Er, actually, there is, General. If I could have just one moment of your time, in private, please?" He was nervous and he was certain that his sweating palms were dripping onto the Castle floor.

"Fine, Mr. Bartowski. Agents, please leave the room."

When he was certain he was alone, he turned to the general and began his carefully practiced speech. He began deviating after the first sentence. He hadn't taken into account his reaction to her facial expressions.

"Well, Mr. Bartowski?"

"General, I've done everything asked of me by my country and…oh, hell, General, I'm 28 years old. I've cut myself off from my family and friends by lying and deceiving them. I haven't had a real relationship in 7 years or a date in the past year and that was with Lou and you know how that turned out."

Beckman was suddenly struck by how much of his life he _had_ lost. She remembered herself at that age and looked down at the simple gold ring she still wore years after it ceased to signify anything.

"Go on, Chuck. Please." She had another meeting in a few minutes but would give him as much time as she could. He deserved at least that.

"General, I'm lonely. The spy world is a cold bedmate. And please, don't even suggest that if I'm lonely you could have Agent Walker 'spend time with me.' That's a disgusting thought – especially since she doesn't _want_ to."

"General, I just want a little bit of what everyone else seems to have, companionship, affection, an attempt at having a normal relationship as long as it doesn't conflict with the intersect."

Beckman had considered exactly what Bartowski thought she would and she was a little surprised at how uncomfortable the thought made her feel when he'd verbalized it. It _was_ disgusting.

Pulling herself back into 'character', she asked him bluntly, "What is it you want from me, Chuck? Please get to the point."

"I'd like your permission to just…find someone I could date, have a possible relationship with, nothing earth shattering. I just want to have…someone…to share my life with, excluding the damned intersect and anything related to it."

"I don't know about Casey but Walker has her…dalliances within the spy community and I know it's frowned on but it's not widely known, I'm sure. I just don't want to be alone in my life, General, for however long it's going to be until I no longer have one either because I'm dead or buried in a hole in Utah."

"That's all. I'm sorry to take up your time. I know how lame and childish that must appear to you considering you're responsibilities and all. That's it. I'm through. You can disconnect now."

She looked at him and nodded. "I'll take it under consideration, Chuck. Now, I really must go." She looked at him as if for the first time and saw a young man in the prime of his life, alone and adrift. She looked at her ring again. "I'll get back with you, Chuck. I promise." And then she disconnected.

Chuck sat down at the conference room table and put his head in his hands. He'd made his case and she said she'd consider it. She called him 'Chuck' twice during the meeting and she'd even made him a promise. All he could do was wait and see.

Sarah opened the door a crack to check on Chuck. He was sitting at the conference table with his head in his hands and she was suddenly afraid that he'd done something foolish and upset General Beckman. Neither agent knew what Chuck had wanted to speak about in private. They had their suspicions though.

"What do you think boy wonder wants to talk with the General about? You've spent a week with him and he sure seemed to be happy in the 'burbs'. Where's his head at, Walker? He seems… unfocused, even for him."

"I don't know, Casey. He seems…unsettled and he doesn't seem to be happy anymore. We don't talk a lot and he's been avoiding me lately. It's almost like I've done something to hurt him but I can't think of anything. He did so well taking down Fulcrum in the 'burbs'. Maybe…"

"Maybe what, partner? Maybe a little taste of what life would be like without the intersect has made him stop to think where his life is now?"

"Yeah, Casey. Maybe." It had certainly made _her_ stop and think.

* * *

**Wilder Party  
Topanga Canyon  
Los Angeles, CA**

Four days later they went out on a simple 'party mission' with Chuck escorting Sarah to a gathering at the home of a suspected supplier of prohibited technology to the People's Republic of China. Casey had dropped them off at the entrance and pulled the limo into the long line of others and had established communications and monitoring.

Chuck snagged a cocktail for Sarah and asked the waiter for a glass of orange juice and then walked down a brief receiving line. They were introduced as Mr. and Mrs. Carmichael to their hostess, Brenn Wilder and her husband Adam. Chuck 'let it slip' that they were in the software business – mostly government contracts for computer-assisted weaponry - and that the current administration was cutting into their profits by requiring renegotiation of contracts and fees.

While Brenn Wilder took Sarah aside to 'let the men talk business', Chuck and Adam Wilder adjourned to his study to discuss a possible business venture that Wilder hinted would double his profits with minimal risk of investment capital.

Adam got right down to business. "Charles, cut the crap. You and I both know that this administration is trying to strangle any trade in 'sensitive' software and technology with less developed nations – nations that are willing to pay top dollar for your products and mine – but are denied access to our markets because of politics. I've developed a network of 'resellers' who will take your product and resell it to countries we're not allowed to deal with. Are you interested?

"Tell me more. How does this reseller network function? Who certifies my shipments abroad?"

"That's all handled through a third party and we're covered by selling the product to them. What happens after the sale…not our problem since we're done at point of sale."

"I'm sure there's a fee for all this reselling, right? Someone's getting a bit off the top of my sale?"

"No. You sell and are paid the agreed upon price. The ultimate buyers pay the markup. And since the resellers are located in countries allowed to purchase our products, we're in the clear."

"Adam, we've only just met and you're offering me a way to get around trade and technology restrictions. What's in it for you? And how do I know you're not working for the State Department and I'll get a subpoena in the morning?"

"I also get a piece of the markup, Charles. After all, it's my network. And as for the State Department's technology sales monitoring…I've got someone on the inside that sheep-dips the paperwork. It's all clean and proper. No subpoenas, no grand juries. Just money."

"What we develop for the government probably doesn't have much application outside of its product technology. Most of our products are developed specifically for unique weapons systems and would require substantial modification to be useful to a 3rd party. How does that affect product sales? Specifically my product sales?"

"Someone has probably already sold the weapons systems through my network, Charles. Besides, they can always reverse engineer it and develop their own."

"Sounds exactly like what I need. Can you suggest any other firms' systems I might have worked with? I need to know what will sell, after all."

"Drop by my office in the morning and I'll go over a listing and provide a list of purchasing agents for you. Now, let's get back to the ladies. You know how they get when they're ignored too long."

As they walked back to the party and their wives, Chuck flashed on a Fulcrum agent, Kenneth Darby, that they been tasked with apprehending but had failed to capture after a brief firefight. Casey had been wounded and the Fulcrum agent slipped away when Chuck went to pull Casey out of the line of fire and Sarah had to pull _him_ out of the line of fire. He'd seen Chuck's face and Chuck knew he had to leave immediately.

"Casey, Albacore, I repeat, Albacore. I'm leaving now. Alert Walker."

Chuck walked swiftly to the exit, nodded to the doorman and walked out and into the chilly night. He spotted Casey walking towards him and so he turned and waited for Sarah. And waited.

"Casey, did you alert Walker?" He'd started using her last name when talking about her since the fiasco in the suburbs. Distance.

"Yeah, but she didn't acknowledge. I'm going in and bring her out. Go to the limo and pick up monitoring. I'll have her back in a flash. Stay in the limo, Chuck."

Casey went to the door, explained that his boss had taken ill and was already in the limo and he was here to fetch his wife. The doorman tried to block his way but Casey just stomped on his foot and then walked in, spotting Sarah at the far end of the room. She was standing with Adam Wilder and the Fulcrum agent, Kenneth Darby. He didn't know if Darby would recognize him so he took out his cell and called her.

"Hello?" She looked around for Chuck but saw Casey instead.

"Albacore. Chuck's in the limo. He flashed on a Fulcrum agent who knows us by sight, Kenneth Darby."

"I see. Well, if he's sick, he's sick. I'll be right out." She turned to make her excuses to their host when Darby poked a pistol in the small of her back.

"Not so fast, Agent Walker. Come along quietly and don't make a scene. Someone will be around shortly to take care of your 'husband'."

Sarah felt a frisson of irritation and fear at the mention of her 'husband'. At least Chuck was 'safe' in the limo. Now if only Casey could pull something out of his hat…

Chuck had picked up the entire conversation thanks to Sarah's open mike. He punched up the NSA backup team and sent the 'Agent needs backup' code and their location and then pulled a pistol out of Casey's war bag, stuffed it into the waist band of his pants and got out of the limo and went back up to the residence.

Casey was walking through the throng of guests making his way to the doorway they'd taken Sarah through. He spoke briefly into his cuff mike.

"Chuck, they've taken Sarah down a corridor to the north of the house off the main room. I'm following. Stay in the limo and let the pros handle this. I'll get her out, Chuck."

Chuck was going to answer then thought better of it. No sense distracting Casey. He knew that the doorway and corridor led to Wilder's office so he cut through the crowd of guests after grabbing two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter.

Two of Wilder's flunkies stood at the doorway to the corridor and had barred Casey from following his partner. Casey began to hem and haw about how his boss' wife was drunk again and fooling around with the host and his boss would have his ass if that happened. It didn't help.

Chuck heard Casey's comment and flashed a plan. He staggered slightly and then put on a drunken smirk on his face and walked up behind the trio.

"Well, John, did you find the slut yet?" He slurred his words and leaned against Casey like he was drunk.

"Wha…? Um, no, sir. I think she went down there with some guy but these idiots won't let me past."

"Really?" He looked at Casey who was sending him 'get back to the limo, moron' glares with his eyes and Chuck threw the two champagne flutes and contents into the faces of the unprepared thugs. Casey floored the one with a straight punch to the face while Chuck kicked the other in the balls and then pushed past and ran down the corridor to the office leaving Casey still standing at the doorway.

He threw open the office door and was shocked and then enraged at what he saw. Sarah was zip-tied to a chair, a gag in her mouth and the front of her dress had been torn open and cigarette burns marred the skin of her breasts. He took in her tear-stained, battered and bleeding face and saw a moment of something he didn't recognize flash across her face.

* * *

T/N: Ok there are a zillion bits and pieces to this and I'm reading and sorting them. Damn, my guy has a steel trap mind but can't number in sequences known to the rest of us. Nicole Fontenot/Trypist.


	2. Beast Crashes the Party

_He originally called this 'the last straw' but I didn't like it so I changed it on him._

_Nicole Fontenot_

Chapter 2

Chuck Bartowski was at heart a gentle man, not prone to anything other than video game violence but something snapped in him and something he'd never felt before took over when he saw what they'd done to his… to Agent Walker. It was like he had stepped out of his own body and was an observer. He reached under his tux jacket behind his back and took out Casey's spare pistol and stepped towards her torturers and shot the first in the face, the second in the chest. He turned to Wilder and smiled and then shot him low in the stomach and then turned toward the Fulcrum traitor who was crouched down behind Sarah and had his pistol out and held to her head.

"Drop the pistol, whoever you are, or she's dead." Chuck just smiled and then raised his pistol and aimed at Darby's face. "She's the professional here, scumbag, I'm just the lowly asset. It's her job but it's my life you're messing with. Go ahead. She's just my handler. You know how it is." A slow and malevolent smile made its way across his face. He could hear his Beast roaring with hungry delight.

As Darby was processing this and trying to figure out just what that meant, Chuck shot him in the head. The bullet passed through Sarah's hair on its passage to Darby's eye and brain. She felt the air move and the heat as it went past her. The bullet clipped a lock of her hair from her head and the heat of the passing bullet left a blister on her ear.

Seconds, minutes or days later, Casey burst into the room and surveyed the scene. Chuck was on his knees in front of Sarah, his coat draped across her while he fumbled with the zip ties. He couldn't stop his hands from shaking and finally he gave up and stood and handed the pistol to Casey and walked out. The look on Chuck's face – incredible sadness and loss - caused Casey to pause for a second to grab his asset but Chuck just told him to 'take care of her, please?'

Casey removed the gag and took Chuck's coat off Sarah to get at the zip ties. He used a small knife to free her and then saw exactly why she'd been covered.

"Oh, shit, Sarah. I'm so sorry. Chuck called in an NSA team. They'll have a medic. He did this? Chuck?" He meant the dead and wounded enemy agents.

Sarah was crying softly, trying to pull it together. "Casey, he just walked in and took them out. He evaluated the threat and took them out. He shot Darby last and the bullet went through my hair. My God, Casey, I thought he was going to… the look on his face. I need to talk to him, talk him down. He's… he's not like us." _'She's just my handler. You know how it is.'_

"We need to wait on the backup team and we need to get this one to the hospital. I'll go find Chuck and bring him to wherever you are. _He_ did this? That idiot. I told him 'stay in the limo'. He never listens. He could have gotten you, us, killed." Casey was appalled at what they'd done to Sarah in the short time they'd had her. And he was concerned for the mental state of his asset. She was right. He wasn't like them.

Sarah put a hand on his forearm. "Casey, you and I both know he never listens if one of us is in trouble. Now go, I'll be fine. Leave me a weapon and I'll brief the team when they arrive. Go find Chuck, Casey. Please, for me?"

"Sure." He handed her the pistol Chuck had used and then went out into the corridor where the team leader was walking towards him.

"Agent Carmichael told us where to find you. There's a medic, a woman, coming. He told us about what happened to Agent Walker and specified a woman. She'll be just a few minutes. You guys had a shoot out, huh?"

Casey looked at the team leader and frowned, shaking his head. "No. Not a shoot out. A four-victim wipe out. There's a traitor in there wounded. The other three are dead. I need to find…Carmichael. This shook him up."

"A virgin agent, huh? Froze up? Wet himself?" He grinned and shook his head.

"No, asshole. He's an asset, not an agent. He took out 4 scumbags and rescued our partner. Damned right it rattled his cage. He's not like us." Casey pointed to the office and then went to find Chuck.

Chuck Bartowski had thrown up all he could ever remember eating. He was sitting on the ground behind and leaning against the limo. He sat beside a pool of vomit. His mind was replaying the scene in the office over and over and each time his mind added details he'd missed on the previous run-through. He couldn't stop it and he couldn't stop shaking. Adrenalin has surged through him and then his Beast had broken free. He groaned and tried to puke it up.

Casey walked to the limo, searching the milling crowd of law enforcement and NSA team members for a man in a tuxedo shirt. He heard a moan and the sound of someone vomiting and he followed the sound.

"Bartowski, you all right? You hurt?" No response. He could see Chuck's hands shaking and the blank look on his face as he squatted down and checked on his asset.

"You did good, Chuck. Sarah's fine. The medics are with her. We got all the bad guys and Wilder's going to the hospital and then prison. NSA has sent a team to his business office downtown. Chuck, it's OK. I know what you're thinking, what you're going through. It's normal for someone without training. You're not like us, Chuck." _No, you're better._

Casey helped Chuck to stand and then went to the limo trunk and pulled out a blanket. It was cold and it wasn't helping his asset to calm down. He was shivering and Casey needed to know how much was from being cold and how much was from shock and the adrenalin rush subsiding.

"Chuck, Sarah's fine. You got to her before they could do any real damage. You done good, and for once I'm glad you didn't stay in the limo. Now, let's go find our partner and see what needs to be done." He took Chuck by the upper arm and led him to the NSA medical unit. He still had not said a word and Casey was becoming concerned. Normally you couldn't get Bartowski to shut up.

Sarah was sitting on the bumper of the ambulance and had been bandaged and her eyebrow had 2 butterfly bandages closing a small gash. She was wrapped in a blanket and drinking coffee and when she saw Chuck she threw the cup away and stepped up to him and hugged him to her. Casey saw her whisper something in his ear but Chuck's expression didn't change, if anything it became even more rigid and marble-like.

"Chuck, that was a brave thing you did but you shouldn't take risks like that. You know Casey was right behind you and he would have done the same thing without any risk to the intersect. But thank you for saving my life."

She smiled her special Bartowski smile but it faded slowly as Chuck just nodded and then asked Casey to wrap things up and take him home.

"Chuck, you know we have an after-op debriefing with Beckman. I'll take you home after that. It won't take long and I'm sure you're tired and edgy." Sarah tried to talk to him but he wouldn't look her in the eye. He just nodded his head, sighed and sat down on the bumper of the ambulance. Casey and Walker exchanged glances but neither said anything.

A medic came by a few minutes later with some antibiotic crème for Sarah's burns and gave her instructions and then sent them on their way. Wilder's wife ran up to Chuck and began flailing away at him and he did nothing to stop her, hardly seeming to notice her punches. Sarah grabbed Wilder's arm and roughly twisted it up behind her back while Casey cuffed her and sent her away with an NSA agent.

Chuck's nose was bleeding and he had a cut on his cheek from her ring but he just wiped the blood off on his shirtsleeve and got up and walked towards the limo.

"I guess there's more to Bartowski than meets the eye, partner. He sure surprised me tonight."

"Casey, why didn't you get to me first? Why did he have to see me like that? And why did he have a gun? He's not supposed to have one. Did you give it to him?" She was upset that he'd seen her vulnerable and defenseless – and in tears. And his comment to Darby still echoed in her mind. _'She's just my handler. You know how it is.'_

"He got to you first after he gave us the opening to take out the two muscle guys blocking the corridor and while I was securing them he ran in to the office and the rest you know. It was my spare 9mm he probably took from my stash bag. That one dude's going to be a soprano for a long time. Chuck's kick caught him square in the nads. He'll be lucky to stand up straight in a week."

"Casey, let's go and get this over with so I can get him home. I hope Beckman doesn't chew him out too badly. He did save the mission."

**Castle**

"Mr. Bartowski if you continue to disobey your handlers, you run the risk of being put in detention. Still, you did a good job in there. See to it that the opportunity to perform in such a valorous manner does not occur again. Well, another excellent mission. Now, agents, you're dismissed. Mr. Bartowski, I need to speak with you privately for a moment. Agents, _I said you're dismissed."_

Casey and Sarah looked at each other and as they left the room, Casey patted Chuck on the shoulder and whispered, "Hang in there, kid. She's not going to put you in a bunker."

When the door closed Chuck looked up at the General for the first time during the entire debriefing. "I know I screwed up, General. I should have let the professionals handle the situation. I'll try and follow orders. But it's hard to… to just sit there while they risk their lives. Look what happened tonight in just 15 minutes!"

He was getting agitated and Beckman took control of the conversation before he could get lost in the blame game that he'd surely win in his own mind. He always found fault in himself, rarely others.

"Chuck, tonight was an exception to the rule. You and Major Casey worked well together and your elimination of the traitor, Darby, closed the file on a pending case. No agent could have done better; although Agent Walker will be sore for a bit, she's fortunate you arrived when you did. Now, that matter is closed."

He looked at her in silence, wondering what the 'next issue' would be.

"Regarding our earlier discussion, I'm sorry, we cannot allow you to seek a relationship outside the intelligence community. The time and effort required to investigate any 'candidates' would be prohibitive."

"Well, thanks for considering it, General. I appreciate your efforts." He started to get up when she stopped him.

"However, current civilian employees are fair game since we've already investigated them prior to hiring them. So, your 'dating pool' consists of young women in the federal service, specifically the NSA."

She went on to provide Chuck with a username and password for a social 'website' for civilian employees – the NSA version of Facebook. In his mind he dubbed it 'Beckman's Babes'.

"So, I kept my promise, Mr. Bartowski. Good luck." She actually smiled and disconnected the circuit leaving a dazed Chuck Bartowski behind.

Casey and Sarah were waiting for him when he walked out of the conference room. "Well, what did she want, Chuck? Are you in trouble? Is she threatening you with the bunker again?"

"No, I'm not in any trouble. Can someone drop me at the apartment?" His monotone speech and lack of eye contact should have brought Sarah's instincts online but didn't. She was still mulling over 'she's just my handler. You know how it is.'

"Sure. I'm ready now." She wanted to talk with him about what he did and how he should handle it. She knew he was rattled and he still wouldn't look her in the face and she wanted to know why.

Casey's cell rang and he was surprised at who was calling: Beckman. Oh, crap. It was the termination order. He just knew it was.

He picked up his duffel and walked back into the armory and took the call. "Casey, secure."

"Beckman, John. How's he doing? He looks pretty ragged, a lot worse that the last time we'd spoken. Is he still actively avoiding any contact with the two of you?"

"Not so much me as Walker. I know what's bothering the kid, General. It's Walker's mixed handling signals. It's deliberately keeping him in a state of uncertainty and he's wearing out. Tonight was a surprise, General. He took charge and led. Quite a surprise and quite a different Chuck Bartowski from one hour earlier."

"He did very well, Major, very well indeed. Do you think he'll snap out of it on his own or will he need a little push?"

"I don't think the Sarah card will play well, General. There's something going on between them and Walker's either totally unaware of it or if she is, she's thinking he's just being 'juvenile' again. He's stepping back, disengaging, distancing himself from her. I don't think her cover as his 'girlfriend' will survive. She's pushed him away one time too many, in my opinion. And I don't mean sex, either, General."

"I agree, Major. I spoke with Chuck last week and we had a very illuminating conversation. Walker will remain as an agent and your partner on the team but Bartowski will be getting a new girlfriend soon. I made the young man a promise, and I won't break it. I'll email you a list of names. If he appears with any of them, call me. Looking for some feedback on an operation."

"'Them', General? Are they suspected infiltrators?"

"No, Major, possible additions to the team's gestalt and purely for the well-being of the asset."

"Keep close tabs on him, John. He's showing amazing potential with the right boot up his ass. And it was indeed a valorous action he performed tonight. Make sure Ms. Walker understands that. You three have a good record and it's getting better all the time. Don't let her screw it up by messing with his mind. Tell her I said 'go easy on Chuck' and we'll see what happens."

"Hey, Sarah, I need to talk with you before you leave. Chuck, go on up to Sarah's car. She'll be right along." Chuck just nodded and continued plodding up the stairs.

Sarah looked at Casey and saw the distressed look on his face. She immediately thought the worst: termination order. Chuck had forced Beckman's hand once too often. She wondered if she could get him off the grid without killing Casey.

"Beckman called. She asked me to remind you that what Chuck did was 'valorous' and you should 'go easy on Chuck' since we're getting a new person and you'll be an agent on the team again instead of his handler/girlfriend. I was afraid it was the termination order but Beckman's just full of surprises. I'll tell you more tomorrow. Now, get him home. He's ready to drop. And think of something to tell his sister to explain the cut and broken nose. I don't think he has enough energy to be convincing and maintain your temporary cover."

Her eyes blinked rapidly and Casey swore he saw the beginnings of tears but just as quickly they were gone and the arctic ice blue was back and she'd set her shoulders and marched out to find Bartowski and get him to his apartment.

Casey had stuck the knife in and then twisted it. She'd played the kid unmercifully and thrown him 'bones' every once in a while when she thought her hold was weakening. Once Casey had thought she was compromised, now he knew she was just being herself, keeping her asset off balance and confused about their 'relationship under the cover'. Classic manipulation but he didn't have to like it. Especially when it wasn't necessary.

He grunted and went back to write a detailed report of the night's activities. He could still see the look on Chuck's face when Walker hugged him at the ambulance and whispered something to him. Cold disinterest.

T/N: Any of you see 24 tonight? Awesome. This is it for a while. I have to work on my thesis or Jimmy will have have a fit it I'm not Dr. Nicole Fontenot by summer. Nicole Fontenot.


	3. Confrontations

Sarah Walker drove slowly to Chuck's apartment complex, slowly for her. She was being moved from handler to Agent and she was uncertain what her new role and relationship to the team would be. While ambiguity and uncertainty were elements of the 'spy life' she hated them in her personal life and being 'removed' from Chuck made it personal.

She glanced over at him. He hadn't said a word since getting into the car nor had he said one word to her that wasn't absolutely necessary in the past two weeks.

"Chuck, talk to me. What are you thinking? What are you feeling? I know that this evening's been a real traumatic time for you but you can't keep it all bottled up. Talk to me. I'm not judging you, Chuck, I'm worried about you and so is Casey."

"I'm tired and the very last thing on earth I want to do is talk. Please, just drop me off at my place. I'll figure out something to tell Ellie that will convince her that I don't need the ER and you can be free of all the drama that this situation will bring. No big deal. I've had broken noses before. I'm clumsy, remember? Spastic. Uncoordinated. A geek. She'll buy whatever I'm selling because she won't want to deal with the alternative."

"Chuck, just what in the hell is wrong with you? You don't talk to me unless it's absolutely necessary, you don't take your breaks with me, you don't seem to give a rat's ass about our cover, you…"

"_**OUR **_cover? _**Your**_ cover, _Agent_ Walker. I don't _need _a cover. I have – had – a life that didn't need a cover but now… just, please, drive, Agent. I do my job and that's all that you people need or want from me. 'Flash, Chuck, good boy, here's a treat – you get to live another week or two'. Will you please just drive the damned car? I don't want to talk to you. I don't _need_ to talk to you. I'm the intersect, and nothing more is expected or required of me than accomplishing your precious missions, get it? Pull over. I'll walk."

She was stunned by the viciousness of his response. And by how desperate he was to get away from her. Why? What had happened that made him so…distant? She needed to talk more with Casey. Something was seriously wrong with him. She pulled over to the curb and he got out and slammed the door and walked away.

* * *

Casey knew what was going on and he was going to spill it, all of it and then she'd deal with the situation.

Chuck got in the shower and turned the water on as hot as he could stand it. He was a monster. He'd killed three people as easily as turning out a light and he'd felt nothing – nothing at all – except a burning rage fueled by the need to hurt them. They'd dared to hurt her, to make her cry and he'd felt a rage unlike anything he'd ever felt before and it just took over. And it felt so damned _good_.

He scrubbed at his skin trying to get clean again, trying to scrub away the filth that the intersect had submerged him in, until the water turned cold and at last he wept, for himself, for what he'd been and for what he'd become. He was like _them_ now. And he hated himself for it.

**Castle**

"You really are a piece of work, Walker. You don't know what's wrong with the moron? Really? _You're_ what's wrong with him. You 'handle' him to keep him in line but you don't care about the effects of your 'handling'. He's just a guy. He's looking for companionship that he can't have with you or anyone else, for that matter. And no, I'm not talking about sex."

"But Casey…"

"You asked so I'm telling you. Please don't interrupt. I'm not good at this but I owe him this much, at least. Especially after tonight."

"Fine. Go on." She had that 'I don't need to hear this' look on her face.

"I'm talking about him wanting someone in his life who isn't a relative. I can't believe I'm explaining this to you. Don't they deal with basic psychology in honey trap school?"

"Well, of course they do. And it's not 'honey trap'. That's a disgusting term."

"No interruptions, Sarah. You come on to him, give him the impression you really 'care' for him on a nonprofessional level and then when he asks about it, and I know he did because he talks in his sleep and sometimes I can make sense of the conversation, you told him nothing could come of it. Then he gets sucked in again by all that crap with Roane and Bryce shows up at your apartment."

"Casey, that has nothing to…"

"Ack! No interruptions. Then he stumbles on you and James Bond sucking face. Don't deny it. It's on the internal security tapes. He was going to take Cole some clothes and cracked the door to make sure he was awake and boy was he awake."

"Casey, that was a mistake. I told…"

"Ack! Don't explain it to me because I just don't care. He saw it. It hurt him but he didn't say a word. He just mumbled in his sleep about 'the cover'. Then, the final straw. Your finest piece of work. You and he play house for a week. He sees the life he could have, that he should have. And suddenly, it's over and it's back to Agent and Asset, again, just like all the other times. And you wouldn't even give him one…last…night of being normal, would you?"

"It was a mission requirement, Casey, damn it."

"No, it wasn't. He's in love with his handler and you facilitate it until he gets too close then you shut him down. But no more, Sarah, no more. He's learning, learning to avoid the pain."

"Casey, he's an asset and I'm…"

"When you whispered in his ear at the ambulance, you couldn't see the look on his face. Instead of a look of utter despair he wore when he left you in that office there was a cold and utter indifference. You pushed him away once too often and he's learned his lesson. He's stepping back, distancing himself, insulating himself from you and the pain you bring. He doesn't talk, he avoids you, he's learning. He's not like us, remember? Well, congratulations, Walker, because you've made him like us. He's cold, unemotional and indifferent."

"Beckman's gotten herself involved on a personal level. Remember Chuck's brief private meeting last week and again today? All related. I'm not sure I understand but the new 'person' who's taking your place is Beckman's idea. She worried about him, Chuck, not the intersect. Imagine that."

"Casey…"

"Partner, you asked me and I've told you. Opinions mostly but there's a lot of fact, too. You should have been up-front with him instead of giving him false hope. He is in a horrible situation and trying to make the best of it. So, ease off the cover and just let Chuck alone for a while."

"Casey, I…I think I…"

"What? Think I'm wrong?"

"No, damn it. I think I love him. There. Satisfied? I've tried to keep my feelings under control. I've tried to keep professional but damn it, I'm human and I know just how he feels. Do you think I liked telling him that the 'thing under the cover' was going nowhere? I'd be out of here in 30 seconds. You know that Beckman would have me gone in a heartbeat. I can't encourage him, I can't…" And she started to cry, real tears, the quiet crying that always is real.

"Sarah, you should have come to me. I know I'm not the most open person but you should have come to me. We could have figured something out but now, now it's too late. Yes, if the general knew how you really felt you'd be gone, but you could have hidden it, worked the system against itself. Hell, I would have helped."


	4. NSA Dating Game

T/N: Another short one. I think he wrote this before the hospital. He was feeling a lot of anger. The 'why me' stage. Anyhow, I'm looking for the end of stuff on his harddrive like he told me. All for today. I do have a life.

Nicole Fontenot/Trypist.

* * *

"That's a bunch of crap, John. What about the investigation, the 49B thing? You instigated that and you know it. Why the change of heart?"

"Because I was wrong. Chuck needs something in his life to keep him grounded. He's not like us, really. He can't shut it off at will. He's not a machine, he's still human."

"I AM NOT A MACHINE, John Casey. And neither are you. You just proved it."

"So what are you going to do, Sarah? I'll help if I can but I think Beckman's got something radical in the works. She's too damned concerned with Chuck as a person all of a sudden. You don't think she's got the hots for him, do you?"

"WHAT? Beckman's old enough to be his mother, his grandmother…no way. That is just so wrong on so many levels it's…disgusting."

"Sarah, this is the age of the Cougar…" He started laughing and she finally snickered.

"What am I going to do, Casey? What would you do?"

"Me? I'd start by following orders for a few days. Give him the space he needs. Not force my company on him. Wouldn't do or expect anything that wasn't fundamental to the cover. And then after a few days, have the conversation with him you just had with me. But let me know so I can glitch out the recording devices…or you could just go to your hotel room."

"Thanks, partner. That's good advice."

Things worked smoothly for the next few days. Sarah kept her distance, minimized contact and worked the cover. Chuck scheduled himself for all-day installs or the cage, minimizing time at the Herd desk and the need to interact with his handler. He didn't speak with either handler unless it was job-related and he basically buried himself in his work. But in the evenings…

* * *

**Casa Bartowski**

The website was a series of chat rooms, all labeled as to topics and content. By far the most popular and almost always full was 'NSAhaters' and of course that's where he first logged in. He used 'Carmichael' as his screen name just to be careful and until he got to know the customs and habits of the posters.

He found that handlers and assets and just regular employees all used the NSAhaters to vent about the 'system' and rage against its injustices. Some of the comments were hysterical but others were obviously well thought out and very compelling. For example:

NoTruth: Can you believe the new rule about cell phones with cameras? Do they think we're going to take screen shots of classified documents and sell them on eBay?

SingleAnalyst: Yes, although not on eBay. More likely a terrorist group or an unfriendly government. It's a smart rule and doesn't infringe on us at all. Just don't use a camera phone. Simple.

But he found the motherlode in 'Singles'. He read almost all the comments for the day. Some of the entries were obviously people who were simply wasting time during the day but the evening posts were all people looking for someone they could relate to. He posted his first entry and thought long and hard about hitting the |ENTER| key before he pushed it.

CARMICHAEL: Hi. New here and not sure of do's and don'ts so feel free to correct me.

SingleAnalyst: Hello and welcome. It's customary to introduce yourself, your function and your non-classified job. Also it helps if we know if you're a guy or a girl. This is the L.A. board so we all assume you're a local.

CARMICHAEL: Thanks. I'm a guy, 28, single, and I have a classified involvement with the NSA. I'm sorry but that's all I can say.

SingleAnalyst: Enough said. You're either an asset or an agent if that's the case. We don't want to know more. Unless you want to tell us

CARMICHAEL: I have no desire to be put underground so I'll leave that one alone.

SingleAnalyst: What's your purpose here, C? If you're looking to hook up for sex, you're in the wrong spot.

CARMICHAEL: Just lonely. Figured since I was referred here by the Powers That Be it must be a worthwhile effort. That's all. Can't date outside 'the community'.

SingleAnalyst: Yeah, know what you mean. Some of us have classifications that make civilian dates…difficult. Turn in their name, open up an investigation file, find out he's married…that kind of stuff.

CARMICHAEL: Single, honest. I have a cover relationship but it's going nowhere. Can't. She'd be gone in the morning. You know how it is.

SingleAnalyst: Yep. So, you got a first name, Carmichael?

CARMICHAEL: Yes, doesn't everyone?

SingleAnalyst: Dork. I'm Sandra, not Sandy, Sandra. Hate being called 'Sandy'. Unhappy history with the name.

CARMICHAEL: I'm Charles but answer faster to Chuck.

SingleAnalyst: 'Chuck?' Haven't heard that one in a while.

CARMICHAEL: I get that a lot.

SingleAnalyst: So what are your intentions here, Chuck?

CARMICHAEL: Meet someone who has an interest in pursuing things outside of the box. I'm in Burbank so let me know if you aren't interested so I can find another victim to stalk. (That's a joke – stalking, I mean.)

SingleAnalyst: I might be. But I need to know more about you and there are probably things you would like to know about me in advance too, right?

CARMICHAEL: Yes but everyone here is privy to this and I'm a bit shy about personal stuff.

SingleAnalyst: No problem. Let's just get a room together.

CARMICHAEL: Lead the way, Sandra.

SingleAnalyst: Fine. Go to 'Holt's Haven' and use your screen name and 'gragnog' as the password. I'll see you there.

Life isn't fair. It's structured deliberately to be that way. Chuck flashed on 'Sandra Holt', saw her bio, her picture and her history. She'd gone to Cal Poly, majored in Mathematics with a minor in Physics. She was smart, very attractive and was responsible for updating intel files for a secure project – the intersect – although she didn't know that.

It would be interesting to see someone who dumped some of the crap into the intersect updates. And a lot of it was just that – crap. Thirty seconds later he'd entered 'Holt's Haven'.

Hey

Hey, Sandra. Love what you've done with the place.

LOL. That's a comment I never expected. For a nerd you do all right. Let's get down to business. Are you allowed to date, Chuck? No restrictions on who or where?

I like a woman who cuts to the chase. Yes, I'm allowed to date. The woman who controls my life authorized it within the 'community' only. So my pickings are limited to this place. Sorry, but I won't lie to you if it's not a security thing.

I appreciate that more than you could ever know. So, to the important things. How tall are you and is your weight proportionate to your height?

6'2" and yeah, proportionate. I drink, used to smoke but quit, I ride motorcycles when I can get my hands on one but don't own one, I surf and generally enjoy life.

So have you been in any serious relationships?

I was engaged when I was at…university but she cheated and I bailed. It wasn't pretty and it took a while to get back in the swing of things and then the government got their hooks into me.

I'm 6" shorter than you. I smoke occasionally and I drink as often as I can. I have a motorcycle but I don't share. I've never surfed because I can't swim. I'm afraid of the water. I love life but sometimes it doesn't love me back. Does that make sense?

Oh, yeah…

It was after 1am when they quit chatting. Their first date was for the weekend and she decided that she'd pick him up… in her car. Dinner, movie or dancing and booze then they'd see about the future.

They exchanged cell numbers and she said she'd call him for directions the night before their date.

* * *

**Casa Bartowski**

They'd agreed to meet at the fountain in his complex. She was a few minutes late and Chuck was sitting at the fountain just thinking about absolutely nothing when Casey walked out of his apartment and came over and sat down beside him.

"Big date tonight, Chuck? One of the hotties on Beckman's list?"

Chuck just sighed and looked up as if imploring God to either save him or take him at that very instant. "Yes, Casey, since you told me about your conversation with Beckman, yes, she's one of Beckman's Beauties. Now, please, disappear before she shows up. I don't want to explain how my father waits with me to make sure I get on the right bus."

"Chuck, it's orders. Beckman wants a happy intersect and since you house it, she wants you to be happy. And safe. So I'm following you on your date. I'll be out of sight but it's orders. Or would you rather I sent Walker?"

"Fine, John, just don't embarrass me, please?"

"I'll send Walker if you worried I'll get even for stuff." His evil laugh made Chuck laugh. He and Casey were becoming almost friends. Almost.

"John Casey? John?" Sandra Holt was standing 5 feet away, looking beautiful in a white miniskirt and black tank top. She definitely took a good photo.

"Sandy? Sandy Holt? What are you doing in Burbank? Wait, you're his date?" Casey was terse, almost curt and his last sentence reeked of 'she's mine'.

Simultaneously, Chuck and Sandra said "You two know each other?" Another wonderful mess courtesy of the damned intersect.

They never went on their date. Chuck faked a work-related cell call and excused himself, winking at Casey and giving him an imaginary high-five. At least someone benefited from 'Beckman's Babes'. The next day would definitely be interesting and embarrassing for John Casey.

**Castle**

Chuck was sitting at the conference table reading the intel dailies and drinking Casey's coffee when he showed up.

"Uh, Chuck, about last night, I – uh – thanks for making yourself scarce. I had no idea Sandy was posted here. We – um – dated in Greece for a while and I had to go undercover and never got to say goodbye to her. She's…"

"Taken. I know. She has this thing about being called 'Sandy', said it was a bad memory. Hope you made it a good one, Casey."

"None of your business, Chuck. But, yeah, thanks for last night. We're going to dinner again tonight and if you want, I can get her to bring an NSA friend for you." 'John is really reaching his limits', thought Chuck.

"Nah. Fixing up the intersect guy is not in your job description. I guess I'm doomed to be alone until you kill me or Beckman finally drops me down the memory hole. Don't sweat it, Casey. She's…nice."

"Yeah, she is." He got up and walked quickly out of the conference room. Chuck figured he'd gotten a lick in with the 'you kill me' comment. Cruelty wasn't really his thing but lately he made exceptions for agents.

He secured the dailies in the classified documents safe and then walked wearily up the stairs to the Orange Orange 'secret entrance' and walked out without speaking to Sarah. He walked across the parking lot to the Buy More and began another dull and endless day of being nice.

Sarah walked down into the Castle and saw Casey sitting at the conference table looking like he'd lost his puppy. She put two and two together and got five. "Casey, what did you say or do to Chuck? He walked out through the Orange Orange and didn't even notice me. He looked…sad and distracted."

"Whoa, Sarah. Nothing happened. I just stomped on his first 'real date' last night. It turns out his date is my old girlfriend from Greece. Chuck faked a service call and left us alone. Mighty nice of him. And then this morning I rubbed salt into the wound. I wasn't thinking and I wasn't trying to be mean. I just suggested that Sandy could maybe bring an NSA coworker and we could all go to dinner."

"Smooth, John."

"Yeah. Then he said it looked like he was doomed to be alone until I killed him or Beckman dropped him down a hole and then he left. Man, that wasn't supposed to go that way. I was trying to thank him."

"I think he's been thanked enough by our spy world. He looked so sad and tired, Casey. And he's getting colder and quieter, have you noticed that? Like his comment to you. That was so unChuck."

**Buy More**

Chuck walked back to the cage and threw Lester and Jeff out, telling them to restock the parts and catch up on the contract files or they were fired. At first they laughed but when Chuck grabbed Jeff and threw him against some stock boxes and then pointed to the waiting shipments they got the idea and left him alone.

He went into the cage, closed and locked the door and popped his earbuds in and fired up his iPod. The Beast of his rage had gotten out of the cage but he'd quickly put him back behind bars. He'd lose himself in work and not worry about things. Maybe if he could piss off Beckman enough she'd order a hit on him. Small mercies.

Sarah noted the time and thought 'to hell with it' and closed the store and walked across to the Buy More. She'd confront him, drag him off to her hotel room and just tell him how she felt. Yeah, that was the plan.

"Sarah, I don't think you should bother Chuck right now." Lester had intercepted her and explained what Chuck had done to Jeff and that Chuck only had an hour or two more to work and almost half the backlog would be gone.

"I want to see him now, Lester. So get out of my way you little turd, before I tell Chuck all about the way you came on to me at the Wienerlicious." Lester practically flew down the aisle and stepped behind the Nerd Herd counter. Chuck would kill him if he knew, given his current mental state.

She stood at the cage door calling his name for a few minutes before she noticed he had his earbuds in. Damned iPod. She started shaking the fencing that made up the cage hoping to get his attention but he was totally absorbed with his work.

She was considering shooting out the fluorescent light to get his attention but figured that would get _everyone's_ attention when Casey tapped her on the shoulder.

"Sarah, what are you doing here? You know the General told you to ease up and give him some space. This is not easing up. This is not giving him space. This is not something you want to do. Trust me."

"Casey, I don't know what else to do. He ignores me. He doesn't want to talk to me. And it's all my own damned fault." Real tears overflowed from her eyes and down her cheeks. Not fake agent tears, real ones. Even John Casey could tell the difference.


	5. Spying on spying lying spies

TheLastStraw5Thelaststraw5a

T/N: Found another chapter. Enjoy and pls review. Nicole the Trypist.

* * *

Casey and Sarah walked out of the work area of the Buy More leaving Chuck working and unaware of their 'visit'. They both walked over to the Orange Orange and down into the Castle. Neither wanted to say what they were thinking.

Casey felt that Sarah was foolish for even thinking about pursuing a 'relationship' with her asset. It was his opinion and dread that one day Beckman would announce that the new intersect computer trials had been successful and he would have to kill Chuck - and then his partner if she were involved with the asset. At first, it would have been no problem at all but now… he wasn't sure he had it in him to kill Bartowski.

Sarah thought that she was foolish for not simply going to his apartment that night, kidnapping him and dragging him to her hotel room and having a long overdue conversation with him. Casey had already agreed to cover for them. It was just up to her to get him to listen and understand and finally, to _believe_ her. It was the 'believe' part she was having problems with. There was no way she could get him to believe her. He'd assume it was just another ploy in the Honey Trap Manual of Asset Handling.

After completing their reports, Casey left for his dinner date with Sandra and Sarah went back to her lonely hotel suite.

**Castle**

Chuck went down to the Castle after work. Casey and Walker would be doing their after-hours whatever and he'd have the place to himself. He pulled the intel dailies from the safe and started reviewing them when he noticed that the internal monitors had been set to 'record' during the briefings and never turned off.

'Damn them! They knew all about his discussions with the general. They probably got a good laugh out of his fumbling admissions to loneliness and the desire for a companion during the first conversation and he could just imagine their laughter at "Beckman's Babes". He looked at the dailies in disgust. Why should he spend one extra minute of his above-ground time on anything for _them_. He refiled them in the safe and then had a thought.

He ran back the tapes to the date of the first debriefing. He switched to the room outside the conference room and saw the two agents talking. He hit the volume and listened.

"_What do you think boy wonder wants to talk with the General about? You've spent a week with him and he sure seemed to be happy in the 'burbs'. Where's his head at, Walker? He seems… unfocused, even for him."_

"_I don't know, Casey. He seems…unsettled and he doesn't seem to be happy anymore. We don't talk a lot and he's been avoiding me lately. It's almost like I've done something to hurt him but I can't think of anything. He did so well taking down Fulcrum in the 'burbs'. Maybe…"_

"_Maybe what, partner? Maybe a little taste of what life would be like without the intersect has made him stop to think where his life is now?"_

"_Yeah, Casey. Maybe."_

Chuck was surprised at Casey's insight. He also heard the wistfulness in Sarah's voice. He moved on to what was going on in the debriefing after the Wilder mission. He skipped the briefing itself and cut to the outer room monitor.

_"Beckman called. She asked me to remind you that what Chuck did was 'valorous' and you should 'go easy on Chuck' since we're getting a new person and you'll be an agent on the team again instead of his handler. I was afraid it was the termination order but Beckman's just full of surprises. I'll tell you more tomorrow. Now, get him home. He's ready to drop. And think of something to tell his sister to explain the cut and broken nose. I don't think he has enough energy to be convincing and maintain your temporary cover."_

He fast forwarded through the next few days until he saw Casey and Walker again deep in conversation. He almost forwarded it through to the next segment except the last few frames caught his eye. Walker was crying and Casey was actually comforting her. Why?

He backed up and listened to Casey really lay into her. While he didn't disagree, he thought he'd been unnecessarily cruel and brutal. She was supposed to be his partner and he was browbeating her.

"_You really are a piece of work, Walker. You don't know what's wrong with the moron? Really? You're what's wrong with him. You 'handle' him to keep him in line but you don't care about the effects of your 'handling'. He's just a guy. He's looking for companionship that he can't have with you or anyone else, for that matter. And no, I'm not talking about sex."_

"_But Casey…"_

"_You asked so I'm telling you. Please don't interrupt. I'm not good at this but I owe him this much, at least. Especially after tonight."_

"_Fine. Go on." _

"_I'm talking about him wanting someone in his life who isn't a relative. I can't believe I'm explaining this to you. Don't they deal with basic psychology in honey trap school?"_

"_Well, of course they do. And it's not 'honey trap'. That's a disgusting term."_

Well, it was the term the Agency used for one with her…abilities. But I agree, it is disgusting, almost as much as the image of her actually doing it.

"_No interruptions, Sarah. You come on to him, give him the impression you really 'care' for him on a nonprofessional level and then when he asks about it, and I know he did because he talks in his sleep and sometimes I can make sense of the conversation, you told him nothing could come of it. Then he gets sucked in again by all that crap with Roane and Bryce shows up at your apartment."_

Yeah, the 'cover under the cover' conversation. I didn't know I talked that much in my sleep. And Casey would have to bring up the 'Montgomery' episode. How the hell did he know?

"_Casey, that has nothing to…"_

"_Ack! No interruptions. Then he stumbles on you and James Bond sucking face. Don't deny it. It's on the internal security tapes. He was going to take Cole some clothes and cracked the door to make sure he was awake and boy was he awake."_

"_Casey, that was a mistake. I told…"_

"_Ack! Don't explain it to me because I just don't care. He saw it. It hurt him but he didn't say a word. He just mumbled in his sleep about 'the cover'. _

Cole and Sarah…I was surprised she hadn't gone with him. She sure seemed taken with him, enough to crawl down his throat…

"_And then, Sarah, your finest piece of work. You and he play house for a week. He sees the life he could have, that he should have. And suddenly, it's over and it's back to Agent and Asset, again, just like all the other times. And you wouldn't even give him one…last…night… of being normal, would you?"_

"_It was a mission requirement, Casey, damn it."_

"_No, it wasn't. He's in love with his handler and you facilitate it until he gets too close then you shut him down. But no more, Sarah, no more. He's learning, learning to avoid the pain."_

Exactly, Casey. That's exactly right. Even a stupid moron can figure out when to quit. It's like that joke about the guy beating his head bloody against a wall and when he's asked why he does it he answers 'because it feels so good when I quit'. And I've definitely quit.

"_Casey, he's an asset and I'm…"_

"_When you whispered in his ear at the ambulance, you couldn't see the look on his face. Instead of the despair he had when he left you in that office there was a cold and utter indifference. You pushed him away once too often and he's learned his lesson. He's stepping back, distancing himself, insulating himself from you and the pain you bring. He doesn't talk, he avoids you, he's learning. He's not like us, remember? Well, congratulations, Walker, because you've made him like us. He's cold, unemotional and indifferent."_

"_Beckman's gotten herself involved on a personal level. Remember Chuck's brief private meeting last week and again today? All related. I'm not sure I understand but the new 'person' who's taking your place is Beckman's idea. She worried about him, Chuck, not the intersect. Imagine that."_

Yeah, imagine that, Casey. At least you get another chance with Sandra Holt. Me? I got nothing. Just a warm feeling seeing you two together. Some good came out of it.

"_Casey…"_

"_Partner, you asked me and I've told you. Opinions mostly but there's a lot of fact, too. You should have been up-front with him instead of giving him false hope. He is in a horrible situation and trying to make the best of it. So, ease off the cover and just let Chuck alone for a while."_

"_Casey, I…I think I…"_

"_What? Think I'm wrong?"_

_"No, damn it. I think I love him. There. Satisfied? I've tried to keep my feelings under control. I've tried to keep professional but damn it, I'm human and I know just how he feels. Do you think I liked telling him that the 'thing under the cover' was going nowhere? I'd be out of here in 30 seconds. You know that Beckman would have me gone in a heartbeat. I can't encourage him, I can't…"_

Those can't be real. No way. Sarah Walker does not cry. It must be a trick to throw Casey off balance so she can do some fancy footwork and save face. She loves me? I don't believe her for one second. Even if she does, she sure has a strange way of showing it. Oh, right, loving me would kill her career.

"_Sarah, you should have come to me. I know I'm not the most open person but you should have come to me. We could have figured something out but now, now it's too late. Yes, if the general knew how you really felt you'd be gone, but you could have hidden it, worked the system against itself. Hell, I would have helped."_

Oh, yeah, Casey. Sure you would have helped her. Remember the 49B?

Chuck had seen enough. He reset everything, wiped out his access logs and closed down the channel and went home. She loved him? Not a chance in the world. He'd quit beating his head bloody. Why didn't it feel 'so good'?

He went home, showered and then pulled up the NSA chat room and went right to singles. He hung out, reading posts and basically killing time. He was about to log off when a query caught his eye.


	6. Date, Flash, Clash, Dash

Thelaststraw5b.2

T/N: Thx for all the reviews. No, I can't steal his drive. In May what's his is mine so why bother. Now, here's another one for those of you who can't seem to get enough of this. I've found 16 chapters but am missing 1 smack in the middle. I shall look for it. This is way more fun than writing rebuttal about Planck's Constant.

Nicole Fontenot/Trypist

* * *

**Casa Bartowski**

Chuck went home, showered and then pulled up the NSA chat room and went right to singles. He hung out, reading posts and basically killing time. He was about to log off when a query caught his eye.

Fish: Any guys out there want to chat?

Carmichael: Hey, what's up?

Fish: Killing time, what else. U local or from HQ?

Carmichael: Local but not NSA, one of the lesser beings.

Fish: LOL. An asset? Really? Cool.

Carmichael: Not really. Stifling. No freedom. Almost as bad a prison.

Fish: So quit.

Carmichael: Can't. It would be a hole in the ground, possibly deep, probably shallow.

Fish: That sux.

Carmichael: Yep. Like a vacuum.

Fish: Meet me at the FISHBOWL. Password is same as you used last night. Trust me.

Chuck's first instinct was to immediately log off and report a possible security breach to NSA but wondered about the wording and decided to risk it. The FISHBOWL was just another private chat area.

* * *

Hey.

Hey. I'm Karen. And you are Chuck, right? Sandra told me about you. It was nice what you did for her. She's really happy to hook back up with her man friend. No names, of course. Still, I haven't seen her that happy in a long time, Chuck. Thanks for that.

I couldn't dump on him. He's saved my ass a few times – a lot of times. It was nice to see the look on his face this morning. I don't think I've ever seen him smile and be happy at the same time.

So, I know all about you, Chuck. Sandra was very complimentary. I'm short, really short. I'm 36 so if that's a big deal to you, tell me now.

How short is 'really short'?

5'…no inches.

No, it's not a big deal.

Moron. I meant the age difference.

Oh. Um…when you're 116 I'll be almost 108. No big deal…unless you take my walker without permission.

Want to take a chance on dinner with an older woman?

Yep.

And that's how Chuck Bartowski met Karen Fisher, former NSA assassin, and John Casey's first partner when he got out of training. He flashed on her but her files were blank, either deleted or were in error or corrupted.

* * *

Karen agreed to pick Chuck up at his place since he didn't have a car (you live in L.A. and don't have a car!?) and then head down to San Pedro to the wharf for dinner. He was wearing one of his better suits that the NSA had 'purchased' for him and he was sitting on the fountain telling Casey exactly where they'd be and how long when he saw an angel walk into the courtyard, a very short angel in a short t-shirt dress and 4-inch heels.

"Casey?" Even her voice sounded melodic. Wait! '_Casey_'?

"Kar..?"

"Oh, no, not again! OK, I give up. Casey, I got to change clothes and head out to the…um… place to do the dailies. Since you know each other, take my reservations… Karen, nice to meet you and have a nice time with Casey. I'm going to do…things."

"Bartowski, it's not what you think." Casey was laughing at Chuck's assumption and he really couldn't blame him. Karen was uncertain what was going on and just stood there, waiting for a resolution.

"No, Casey, it never is. Now, you kids run along. Don't worry about me. I have lots to keep me busy. Maybe my first question should always be 'do you know John Casey?' when I ask an NSA person out." He walked to his apartment door and Casey shouted for him to get his ass back over there.

"Chuck, Kar…en was my… very first partner when I joined the NSA. She taught me well so watch yourself around her. She can kill you more ways than Walker." He winced and his eyes said "Sorry, Chuck". Chuck saw a look pass over both of them when he said 'my… very first partner'. Maybe there was more to it but he couldn't care less.

"Thanks, Casey. Just what the moron needs to hear before going out for the first time. Thanks a million." His eyes were cold and Casey knew that he'd really been out of line and now owed the moron an apology.

"Guys, I'm still here so when you both are finished pissing in circles can I take my guy out or not, John?"

"Yeah, and since he's with you, I won't tag along behind you. Just don't let him out of your sight. He tends to get into trouble." His tone of voice was no longer friendly.

"Fine. Chuck, are you still willing or has he scared you off?" She smiled at Chuck but the look she gave Casey was anything but pleasant.

"Yep. Let's go, Karen. Before the Major puts the other foot in his mouth."

* * *

Not much was said on the way to SP, probably because Chuck's heart was in his mouth almost the entire time. She drove her little Miata like Walker drove her Porsche – fast, very fast.

"So, Chuck, tell me a little bit about Chuck Bartowski, the civilian. And quit trying to drive. I see your feet hitting the imaginary brakes. Chill out and enjoy the flight." She laughed, not a girly laugh but rather a womanly laugh. It just seemed more…womanly, somehow.

He related his time at Stanford, left out Bryce but included the Jill thing, was blunt about being wrongfully accused of cheating and then covered the 'missing years' up until the current time.

"So your sister and you were on your own at such an early age? Sad. Still, you turned out pretty good, all things considered. You don't carry a lot of bitterness around and you seem to be handling your other life well. Casey wouldn't be so friendly otherwise."

"Casey? Friendly? No way. That was just because you were there."

"Nope, it's because of what he told Sandra and how he told her. I think he sees you as a little brother, a pain in the ass but still a brother."

"Well, since you put it that way…" They both laughed.

**The Wharf Restaurant and Bar  
****San Pedro, CA**

Dinner was going well. The conversation never dropped into those long and awkward first-date silences and things were really moving along when Chuck flashed, hard. Karen immediately reached across the table and took his hand, concerned he might be epileptic and on the verge of a seizure. She didn't want him to be embarrassed.

"Chuck, are you OK? Do you want to get out of here? Do you have any meds you can take?"

"Karen, take my cell, go to the ladies room and hit speed dial #2 and tell Casey 'Flash Gordon's in town and he brought our little friend, Omar the Tent Maker and some camels' and he knows me'. Repeat it back, please?"

She did. He smiled at her and sent her on her way. Hopefully Casey would figure out 'I flashed, Omar Sanduval is here with a whole bunch of Middle Eastern types who were on the watch list. And he saw me.'

She came back and gave him the oddest look then sat down and passed him his cell phone. "Chuck, exactly how far up the food chain are you? And how do you know Diane Beckman? She called right after I talked with Casey. I didn't take the call though. So you might want to call her back."

"Nah. I'm sure she's spoken with Casey already." He did not want to talk to Beckman.

His cell chirped and he saw it was Casey.

"Hey, John. Kinda busy right now."

"Bartowski, get out of there right now. Don't worry about Kar…en, she'll understand. Get her to bring you to the Castle. She's cleared. Beckman's having a goat over you flashing on the Tent Maker and his buddies without backup. So, get up, bring your date and come in. Now! And do not start a firefight. I didn't give you that weapon to attack but to defend yourself."

"Fine. But I might be a bit late seeing as how Omar and his personal camel, a really big camel by the way, are walking this way. Oh shit, oh dear." He flipped his phone off and smiled at Karen.

"Karen, go to the little girl's room. I'm sure we would have had a wonderful time but I have to go with these gentlemen. Go. Right. Now!"

She opened her purse and pulled out a small Beretta and smiled at him. "No one bothers my date, Chuck, no one."

He just shook his head and then smiled. If anyone at the restaurant had been in Wilder's home office they would have seen the same smile right before he shot Darby. Karen saw it and her eyes widened. 'He's a predator, he's at the top of Beckman's food chain. Analyst, my ass'. The Beast was loose and ready to rampage.

Chuck used Karen as a visual shield and pulled out the Beretta that Casey had 'forgotten' to take back and thumbed off the safety and leaned back in his chair.

Omar and one of the Beastie Boys came over and stood behind Karen, using her as a shield of sorts. The Beastie Boy reached into his coat and pulled a pistol out of a shoulder rig just far enough so that Chuck could see he was armed. He was sending a message.

"Ah, Mr. Carmichael, we meet again. So happy I am to see you. And where is the lovely Agent Walker? I would like to deal with her tonight also. But, I will settle for you and your lovely lady here."

Chuck sent his own message but was a full second behind Karen's.

She twisted in her chair and put the muzzle of her small pistol into Omar's stomach and shot him while Chuck raised his pistol and shot the thug in the heart. He reached over and grabbed her hand and dragged her toward the entrance, weaving through tables of screaming diners, watching the Middle Easterners slide down behind their table as she waved her pistol their way.

They ran out into the parking lot and Chuck let her open the car and start it while he kept an eye out for the others. His cell was ringing and he could just imagine the shit storm that was awaiting him. He'd screwed up royally.

The Arab types were on their cells and running out into the lot not seeing Chuck but looking for both him and their bodyguards. The bodyguards arrived from behind the restaurant and followed the pointing fingers of their bosses and ran towards Chuck and the Miata firing their pistols but not coming anywhere near the couple.

"Chuck, get in the damned car and let's get out of here." Karen was pissed. This was her first date in ages and some bad guys had screwed it up by messing with her date.

"Just a second, sweetie. I have to say goodbye to these guys." He didn't know where the line came from but he said it and immediately felt like a fool. He fired at the lead bodyguard and was shocked when he hit him. The others were also shocked and took cover behind parked cars while their bosses ran around behind the restaurant.

Chuck folded himself into the cramped Miata and grinned at Karen. His Beast was craving more but skulked back into the dark place in Chuck's mind that he called home and groomed himself. There would be more soon.

"Well, Karen, I guess this was our first and last date. Sorry. Didn't mean for you to get involved but I couldn't let them grab me. It was too late for you to make a graceful exit before they showed up. We'd been having such a nice time too." She noted the trembling hands and reevaluated her opinion. '_Not a predator, not yet anyhow, just a young guy forced to do unpleasant things to survive_._ But obviously he was learning and adapting. He had the potential to be deadly with the proper training and incentive, probably just the incentive would be enough'._

"You think for one minute I'm letting you get away without dinner and dancing you're nuts, Chuck. Damn but you know how to show a girl a good time."

She peeled out of the parking lot and Chuck's phone began chirping again. It was Casey so he took the call.

"We're on our way in, Major. No injuries on our side. Man, your old partner sure is a great date. We'll be there in 40 minutes maybe less if no one stops us for going faster than light." She noted the lightness in his voice belying the trembling of his hands as he safed the pistol and slipped it back into a shoulder rig. It took him three tries.

**Castle**

"Bartowski, you were told to leave, not start WWIII. Damn it, Beckman's all over us here. The NSA team arrived just as you were leaving. Did you have to shoot Omar? The thug I can understand but old Omar was supposed to be taken unharmed, remember? A bargaining chip? Ring any bells in that empty head of yours?"

Casey hung up the phone, a frown on his face. He knew who had popped Omar. The shot to the stomach was her style. She hated to kill a target figuring it was better to interrogate a live one than wonder what a dead one knew.

'I wonder why she's off active status?' Casey wondered.


	7. Threats of Death in the Desert

Thelaststraw5c

I have _got_ to do some disserting or I'll be a bride in summer school. This is absolutely the end for today. No emails or I'll go on strike! More reviews would be nice tho. NF.

* * *

**Castle**

"Is Chuck all right, Casey? Is he hurt? Is he on his way in?" Walker was worried and a worried Walker talked non-stop. Her heart was pounding in fear for him. He was alone against Omar and his hoods. Outnumbered and outgunned and she was sure he'd be killed or taken.

"Yes, no and yes. They're fine, Sarah. They'll be here in 30 minutes. Advise Beckman. She's waiting and she impatient. Not a good combination."

"Casey, you said 'they'll be here…'. Is she cleared?"

"Oh, yeah. She's cleared for all of this just not the intersect. Chuck was really good at messaging me without mentioning it. It was a clean sweep in San Pedro. Omar, two dead thugs, three Yemeni Jihadists and no injuries on our team. Beckman should be happy."

Beckman was not happy. "Mr. Bartowski, did Major Casey not speak clearly enough for you to understand that you were to leave the premises immediately and not engage in Wild West gunplay?"

"Yes, ma'am. He was extremely clear but Omar and his boy were less than 5 feet away at that time so it was kind of a moot point. His boy pulled a weapon and there were shots fired and we ran, literally, out into the parking lot. His buddies' bodyguards started shooting and we left."

"Who shot Omar?"

"I did, General Beckman. In the stomach, a non-fatal wound."

"And the bodyguard at your table?"

"That was me, General. And also the one in the parking lot. It discouraged the others and gave us the opportunity to leave, unharmed."

"Why did you have a weapon in the first place, Mr. Bartowski? You're an asset, not an agent." She gave Casey a withering look.

"After the deal at the um…party the other night I kept the pistol after an NSA agent returned it to me thinking it was mine." Casey blinked, confused. _He_ had given Chuck the gun, not another NSA agent.

"And for what purpose? You're not to engage in offensive operations. You know your role."

"I saw what they'd done to Sa…um Agent Walker. I probably would not hold up to physical duress so the pistol provides an escape, nothing more, General. Either give me a tooth with a poison pill hidden in it or let me carry the pistol or just kill me and be done with it."

Beckman's mouth moved in speech but no words were uttered. She was literally speechless. She put her hand over her eyes and shook her head.

"Mr. Bartowski, return the pistol to Major Casey. We'll see about the tooth. And don't push my buttons again, young man. Stay out of trouble!"

She disconnected and the bloated seal of the NSA floated across the screen.

Chuck withdrew the pistol from his coat, cleared it, ejected the magazine and slid it all across the table to Casey. He stood up and looked at the two agents who'd been silent throughout most of the debriefing. "Thanks for all the support, guys. Much appreciated." He walked over to Karen and nodded towards the stairs.

"Bartowski, that was totally uncalled for and you know it. You should have followed orders and gotten the hell out of there when you were told to."

Chuck whirled and walked up to Casey. "How long did it take me to get here from there, Casey? How long? That's how long I had. You weren't there, I was. If Karen hadn't popped Omar, I'd be hanging from a meat hook right now and all your precious secrets would be lost forever." He could feel the Beast pacing in its cage, wanting out. The actions tonight had given it some satisfaction but it wanted more.

"Karen, I'll be in the parking lot when you're ready to leave or I can catch a cab home. Your choice." He walked up the steps and left the Orange Orange.

"He had no choice, Casey. None at all. He deserved the benefit of the doubt from his handlers, don't you think? Well, I have to get him home before he finds someone else to kill. Beckman hasn't changed one bit. She's still a judgmental bitch where field ops are concerned. Nice to have met you, Agent Walker." Fisher walked up the stairs to find her 'date'.

'Another damned brunette' was Sarah's first thought. Her second was that she was right but they'd had no opportunity to comment in the debriefing.

Casey just grunted. He hated looking like a tool in front of his first partner and his current one. And he owed Bartowski for not ratting him out for the pistol.

Chuck was leaning against the Miata, arms crossed, head down, deep in thought. He'd gone over every action in tonight's little adventure and could find nothing to earn Beckman's ire. His handlers sure hadn't been any help.

Karen slipped into his arms and hugged him. The difference in their height made it a perfect fit in her opinion.

"Hey, Chuck, I'm hungry. Let's find someplace still open and get something to eat. And maybe drink. Definitely drink. Now, before you go all apologetic on me, let me speak."

"Go ahead. I need your good graces for the ride home."

"I had a wonderful time. I met a great guy and I definitely want to see him again...HINT! Don't let Beckman get to you. You did the right thing. Only don't be so quick about dying. I'd like to see where this thing goes, OK?"

"Fine with me. It was an interesting first date, don't you think?"

"Most excellent first date but it's hardly over. Now, food and drink, Chuck. You promised me food and drink."

She dropped him off in front of his apartment complex about 2am after exchanging cell numbers. She said she expected a call regarding a weekend outing and she knew where he lived if she didn't get it.

He'd had too much to drink and his path to the apartment was most circuitous. He stopped and sat on the edge of the fountain rethinking the evening and wondering where he could take her next. She was a great listener, a great dancer and a smooth kisser. They meshed and he was tickled that the age difference made no difference at all. Laughing to himself, he found his apartment door and bed.

**Buy More  
Burbank, CA**

He locked himself in the cage again, determined to finish all the repairs that were backlogged. Customers were complaining and with good reason. Some of these units had been here more than 60 days. He fired up his iPod, popped in his earbuds and went to work. The other Herders left him alone, especially Jeff who was sporting a magnificently black and blue bruise over most of his lower back.

Sarah walked over to the Buy More at noon to check on Chuck, scanned the board and saw that he was 'caging it' again. She sighed and walked back to the Orange Orange. She missed him and it looked as if she'd lost any chance of being more than just an agent in his life. She'd seen the way Karen Fisher had looked at him. She'd seen the same look on Lou and others and knew it was the same look she'd had when no one was looking.

Casey periodically walked back to make sure he was OK. From time to time one of his Herders would also check on him. He was running through repairs like no one else could and no one wanted to distract him.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket startling him. He looked and saw 'Fisher' in the caller ID and answered.

"Hey, Karen. How's your day going?"

"Fine, Chuck. So, what do you have planned for the weekend?"

"Um, I'm still working on it. Nothing has come to mind. You have any ideas? I'm open to suggestion." That came out all wrong.

"Well, how about driving down to Mexico, spending the weekend in the Baja?"

"God, that sounds great but I can't leave the country, Karen. Rules. Wish it were otherwise." He sighed and she heard the longing in it.

"Well, if south is out, how about we go out to Catalina? Get a B&B in Avalon and just veg out for the weekend?"

"Sounds great to me. Can we get a reservation this late?"

"I got contacts. I'll call you right back."

He noticed the time, figured he'd skip lunch and try to finish this up by noon the next day. He had to make preparations for the weekend.

Karen called back. They had reservations and she'd pick him up at 6:30 at his apartment Friday night. The weekend on Santa Catalina was just what Chuck needed to decompress a little. He still saw the look on Walker's face when he shot Darby. Fear and betrayal had flown across her face. It tore at him that she had so little faith and trust in him that she'd felt that way for even a second.

**Avalon, Santa Catalina Island**

The weekend flew by. Chuck was initially uncomfortable with the sleeping arrangements but she explained that she had to take what she could get and a one-bed was all they had. When she saw the panic on his face she almost laughed. Most guys would have just assumed they'd be getting laid given the arrangements. Not her guy.

"Chuck, all I want to do tonight is be held, maybe a little making out but that's it, sweetie. We'll take it slow. It's been a while for both of us, I know."

Friday night went fine and by Saturday morning things were progressing nicely. He was a lot more relaxed and comfortable with her. She woke up in his arms, her face pressed against his chest. She was thoroughly satisfied with their progress.

They spent Saturday doing purely tourist stuff, walking around and taking things in. They'd both been here before and each had their favorite 'thing' to see or do. Surprisingly, there were few they didn't share. She started holding his hand while they walked and by the end of the afternoon they'd progressed to each having an arm around the other.

She surprised him by joining him in the shower and he surprised her twice. That night she slept, thoroughly sated, and in the morning it was her turn to wake him with fondling and kissing until he was awake and alert enough to appreciate her efforts under the sheets.

They had dinner in Burbank and she dropped him off at his apartment. She was thirty-six but felt ten years younger. She was already mentally rearranging closets and bureau drawers to provide enough space for the clothes she'd convince him to leave at her place. She knew she was rushing things in her mind but she couldn't help it. He was special.

**Burbank, CA**

He was on the other side of town Thursday morning doing a network analysis for a big potential customer when Casey called. Unfortunately, his 'other job' required his attention. He had to go to the Castle for a briefing. He called Lester and told him to finish up because he had another install he'd forgotten about.

**Castle**

Beckman's attitude hadn't improved since the shooting at the restaurant. She was still shooting him daggers.

"Team, a confidential informant has reported that a counterfeiting operation has been established in Huntington Beach and the money is being 'block shipped' overseas to devalue American currency. We're talking millions of $20 bills, almost perfect duplicates of our currency, being shipped via truck to Mexico and Central America and by ship to other countries. Your task is to confirm the existence of the operation and identify the participants. Treasury agents will act once the intel has been confirmed.'

She fixed her glare on Chuck.

"Mr. Bartowski, you will obey your instructions to the letter. Any deviation will result in detention in the Castle facility for a week without any amenities at all except the daily duties involved in maintaining the intersect and missions. And if that doesn't work, a month, and if that fails, well, can you say 'deep, dark hole'?"

Chuck just stared at her. His life was fast shrinking to the point where all he did was work and sleep. If he hadn't had Karen Fisher in his life he would have seriously considered ending it.

"Well, Mr. Bartowski? Do you understand what the consequences will be?"

Now it was his turn to glare. "How much longer do you think the people at the Buy More are going to buy these constant interruptions to my work day, General? How many 'training seminars' can your people invent to explain my absences, my disappearances from the counter or cage? Do you understand the consequences to me, personally?" Do you care? But he didn't need to ask to know the answer.

"I will take those consequences into consideration. Your Buy More days may be numbered. I can see your point. Very well, but understand something, Mr. Bartowski, I will not tolerate your failures to follow instructions. When you endanger the intersect, you endanger the well being of countless Americans who depend upon us to keep them safe. Consider that before acting rashly."

The briefing ended and Chuck stood up to leave. He had work to do and the cage was falling behind again.

"Keep pushing her buttons, moron, and either Walker or I will be taking you on a one-way ride to the desert. She's being lenient and you still don't get it, do you, idiot. The intersect must be protected, especially from the cretin who has it. I can't believe you bring up your pathetic life's problems when we're facing a major operation. You disgust me. Get out of my sight. We meet here at 11pm. Don't be late." He was upset about Chuck's blossoming relationship with Karen Fisher. He thought he'd purged her from his system but apparently he'd been wrong.

After he'd left Sarah turned and faced her partner. "Casey, that was totally unnecessary. It's bad enough Beckman's threatening him with imprisonment here at the Castle but your comments were totally out of line. 'A one way trip to the desert'. You 'worry' about him privately, we talk about his deteriorating attitude and what we can do about it and then you say he disgusts you with his pathetic problems? Who's the moron, Casey? The guy who's living for everyone else or the guy who can't see how difficult his life is?"

Casey knew he'd been too hard on Bartowski but he was fed up with the idiot's lack of discipline and commitment and he'd just lost his temper. And then was that other thing. Karen.

"I'll ease up but I'm not going to apologize. He needs to man up and get with the program. He's got a lady friend to handle his hormones now. He needs to appreciate the agency's efforts to keep him happy. Just be glad he preempted Beckman and nixed the idea of _you_ providing his hormone relief." They'd both listened to Chuck's emotional appeal to Beckman for some 'space' and the chance to pursue a normal relationship. Sarah had had very mixed emotions about the recorded conversation.


	8. Ambush at the Distribution Center

Thelaststraw5d

T/N: Here's another chapter. Enjoy and review. You learn a little more about Casey and Karen, especially in the next chapter.

Nicole

* * *

**Casa Bartowski**

"So Chuck, who's this mystery woman you spent the weekend with? When are we going to meet her? Why don't you bring her to dinner some night – and I want a decent notice, little brother, to prepare something…suitable."

"You know, that's a good idea. I like this woman, really like her. She's funny, sexy, open and…everything Sarah wasn't, well, OK, Sarah was incredibly sexy but we won't go there."

"Well, I miss Sarah but you have to live your own life, Chuck. Now, tell me all about her. What's she like? How old? Where does she…"

Chuck's cell interrupted her interrogation and it was the subject of the inquisition, Karen Fisher.

"Hey, Karen, what's up?" He gave Ellie a smirk and walked back to his room. He wanted privacy.

"Not much, sweetie. Just sitting here wishing you were here. We could make popcorn and you could make fun of my original Star Wars VCR tapes. I couldn't part with them. I don't think the remastered DVDs are as good. But, I called to see how you were. I thought maybe we could…meet for coffee or something later tonight? I miss you, Chuck. I'm like a 12 year old with her first crush."

"I'd like nothing more but…my other thing needs me tonight. But my sister wants you to come over for dinner this week if that's not too lame or moving too fast for you. I'd really like her to meet you. End the constant stream of 'when are you going to find someone else to fill the hole in your life' hints."

"Is that what I am, Chuck? Filler?" She giggled to let him know she wasn't being critical.

"No, no, um, no, I – I was just quoting my sister the doctor of love. She's a real MD on the side though."

"I'd like to meet your family very much, Chuck. And no, it's not lame, it's…sweet."

"Good. Let's talk more tomorrow. I got a Casey/Walker thing on tonight. I really have to run. I'm in the shitter with Beckman and I have to toe the mark or it's curtains." He'd let his mouth run and was immediately sorry he had.

"Chuck don't worry about that bitch. We can always fall off the grid, sweetie. They'd never find us. Don't worry." She was deadly serious.

"Karen, forget I said anything, please. Don't worry about me. I have things in my life that are important, more now than ever. I'll be a good little boy for the General. Now, babe, I have got to run…talk to you tomorrow."

**Castle**

Things were tense in the Castle between the team members. Sarah glared at Casey who blamed Chuck for the tension between the two agents. Chuck just reviewed the available intelligence and then drank coffee while the two professionals did their thing. His role in the mission was to flash on anything the two helmet cams picked up. He'd stay in the van and watch the monitors. Piece of cake.

**Coventry Distribution Complex  
Echo Park, CA**

Casey parked the van about 40 yards from the front of the row of steel pre-fab warehouses that dotted the nearly unused industrial park. Once heralded as the 'cutting edge' of distribution technology, it had long been surpassed by other complexes. The rail spur was still active as was the small trucking company terminal at the far end of the street.

"Stay in the van, Bartowski. Do not leave for any reason. If you have to 'tinkle' use an empty soft drink can. Got it, moron?"

"Have a good mission, agents. Don't trip over your dicks out there." He slammed the sliding door of the van shut and turned to his monitor. "Let's have a commo check, agents."

"Casey up."

"Walker, up."

"Fine. Turn on the helmet cams and let's get this crap done. I have to open in the morning."

The pair entered the target warehouse and started panning the facility. They were looking for anything resembling printing equipment, large commercial clothes driers and palletizing equipment and materials, none of which should be in a disused warehouse that was festooned with 'For Sale or Lease' signs.

They opened the doors to each office and panned the room for Chuck. Nothing. The team opened heavy doors leading onto the warehouse floor. Other than a small forklift with a flat tire, the place looked empty. They walked across the floor to check on some rooms at the far end of the warehouse when three men armed rushed out of the end door and started shooting at the agents.

They were sitting ducks, caught out in the open with no cover. They had no choice but to run. When they reached the heavy doors opening up into the office area another trio of hoods came at them from the side while the original attackers ran out of the warehouse in an attempt to flank the agents and catch them in a crossfire.

Casey shouted for Chuck to bring the van up to the front of the warehouse and open the side door because they were coming in 'hot'.

'Well, technically I'm not leaving the van and he did order me to do it.' He climbed over the seats, threw open the sliding door on the van and got into the driver's seat and drove to the rally point. He could hear the sound of automatic weapons firing and the occasional crack of Sarah or Casey's 9mm. He wondered why they didn't take heavier arms.

Casey and Sarah burst from the warehouse just as the original ambushers reached the front of the warehouse and took the van and the agents under fire. They were caught in a crossfire and after firing several shots to discourage the flankers they both jumped into the van and slammed the door.

"Go, go, Bartowski. Get us out of here." Casey could hear the impacts of the thugs' fire on the side of the van. Bullets shattered the van's rear and side windows as Chuck jammed his foot on the gas and the van rocketed down the street and out of the industrial park onto the boulevard fronting the property.

"You OK, Sarah?"

"Yeah, Casey, I'm fine. Well, we know something's going on in there, just not sure exactly what."

"Bartowski, drive to the Castle and we'll debrief this failure. And watch your damned mouth with the General. She's not going to be pleased."

Sarah cringed at his tone and whispered, "Casey, remember our talk."

They were almost to the turn off for the Castle when the van began to slow and drift off the road.

"What the hell…Chuck, what's wrong with you? Wake up and drive the damned van …"

From her place behind him she could see him nodding off. Well, he was burning the candle at both ends, him and his new girlfriend. She sighed and sat back and started reviewing the events to put together her report. Chuck stopped the van at the back of the Castle in its proper slot. The agents got out of the van and ignored him. He'd really had no part in the evening's disaster. He wasn't even needed for the debriefing.

**Castle**

"Where is Mr. Bartowski?" Beckman wanted the entire team together for the debriefing. She wanted Bartowski to feel a sense of belonging with his team and also for the agents to feel he was a team mate, not an attachment.

"He's probably asleep in the van. He did well tonight. Kept his cool and followed instructions. He's tired. Been working like a madman at the Buy More. And then we keep him up."

"He's a vital part of this team, Agent Casey, go get him. Now. Agent Walker, how's he doing? Still distant?"

Casey walked up the steps to the rear entrance while Beckman grilled Walker on the mental state of their asset.

'Jesus, the moron's asleep. Didn't even turn off the lights. Now the battery will probably need charged.' He jerked open the driver's door that Chuck was asleep against and starting yelling but stopped when he saw the single bullet hole in the windshield of the van, low, almost out of sight and hidden to passengers.

He called Walker on her cell. "He's not sleeping, he's unconscious. He's been shot. We need to get him to a hospital."

Casey stripped off Chuck's vest and was sickened by the sucking sound it made when pulled off his chest. So much blood.

Beckman noticed the panicked look on Walker's face and then listened to a hurried injury report on the asset. Beckman started to ream her out but realized it would delay getting the asset proper medical attention.

"Advise me when you know what happened and his status."

They took him to the nearest hospital, calling ahead to alert the 'approved physician' of an inbound injured agent. Sarah held his head in her arms and used one hand to press a dressing against the wound to try and stop the bleeding. He'd never uttered one sound, not a grunt or a whimper of pain. He just drove the van. He was probably losing consciousness when he'd drifted off the road but held on until the van was secure behind the Castle. She felt like such a failure.

"Walker, we have to get a cover story. Let's call Karen in on this. She's only a few miles away and she's approved for this operation, less the intersect. It makes sense he'd be with her if he was out."

"Fine. But you better lighten up on Chuck. He'd have bled to death and we'd never have known. Not a sound, Casey, not a whimper or a groan."

She could hear his side of the cell phone conversation but figured out Fisher's comments.

"Karen, John Casey. Chuck's been shot and we need you for the cover story."

"I don't know how bad he is."

"He was driving the van. He didn't do anything wrong, OK. Now…"

"Yes, he was wearing a vest but the round went high into the least-protective layers."

"We don't know that and we won't for a while. We're just arriving at the hospital. Yeah, Burbank General."

"Beckman wouldn't do that, Karen, you know she's a lot of bluster where he's concerned."

"Look, stop with the criticisms. I was 27 and it was my first mission and you weren't exactly Miss Congeniality. Now, are you coming or not?"

**Burbank General Hospital  
Burbank, CA**

He snapped the phone shut and shook his head. "She's coming. You better make yourself scarce. It wouldn't be easy explaining why his ex-girlfriend just happened to be in the hospital when he was admitted. I'm leaving as soon as she gets here but I'll hang around until we get a resolution. I'll have Karen call Ellie."

Sarah turned her back on Casey and walked out the ER entrance. 'Ex-girlfriend'… was not the title she wanted. She had to get back to the Castle and clean up the van and have a cleaner crew take care of the shot-out windows.

* * *

Karen Fisher blew through the emergency room door and demanded to know where Charles Bartowski was and his status. When the nurse asked if she was family she blinked and told her she was his fiancé. She'd have said 'wife' but she hadn't thought to bring her ring.

Casey was standing at the Surgical Waiting Room entrance and took her aside. "Chuck was driving the van and we were taking fire from two directions. No one knew he was hit. He never made a sound just kept driving us back to the Castle. He didn't make the debriefing and I went up to get him and found him out cold. We thought he was asleep. The round came in through the windshield and left a gouge in the dashboard cover and then entered below the collar bone. There was no exit wound so it's still in there. He'd bled a lot and when I took off his vest it…it…it made a sucking sound, that's how much blood there was."

"Casey, pull it together. You better have it together when you talk to Beckman. Now, Chuck and I were meeting for coffee and got caught in a drive-by shooting, just innocent bystanders. Got it? Casey! Get your head out of your ass. My God, if you're this bad, how is the other partner handling it? Jesus, get out of here. I'll call you when I know something. Give me his sister's number. I can't find his phone."


	9. Karen Meets Ellie and Warns and Warms

Thelaststraw5e

Here's another one. I won't have muc time later this week. I have to fill in for an instructor and then do several sections of tests for my T/A gig. Sorry. Read and REVIEW, please?

* * *

**Burbank General Hospital  
****Burbank, CA**

She watched Casey leave and shook her head. Idiot! She called Ellie Bartowski and was surprised to find she was in the hospital on duty.

"Ellie, I'm Karen Fisher. Chuck and I are dating and…and Ellie we got caught in a drive-by shooting and he got shot. I'm at the Surgical Waiting Room and I'm so afraid…no one will tell me anything. I'm not a family member…" She was afraid for Chuck and let all her emotions loose. She was surprised by how deeply invested she was in him after just two weeks.

Ellie practically ran the few yards from where she was when she got the call to where Karen Fisher was leaning against the wall softly crying.

"Karen? Hi, I'm Ellie Bartowski, Chuck's sister. Come on, let's go down to the nurses' station and steal some good coffee and then I'll try and find out about my brother. I know he's just going to be fine. There's nothing to worry about."

"We were sitting at an outdoor café over on Crenshaw and some gangbangers shot it out with some others and Chuck was hit, right here, and I couldn't get the blood to stop. I'm so afraid I'm going to lose him before I even... He's so nice and …" Tears flowed easily since they were genuine.

Karen gasped as Ellie drew her into an EllieHug. "He's going to be fine. My brother is a trouble magnet but he always comes back for more. I'll go check with the surgeons. I'll be right back, OK?

Ten minutes later Ellie walked into the waiting area and gestured for Karen to walk with her.

"They're finishing up now. He'll be out of the OR and in Recovery in about 15 minutes or so. The bullet entered just below the collar bone and then went downward nicking the subclavian artery just enough to create a serious bleed."

Karen knew that the bullet had been deformed from its strike against the windshield and it's passage along the dashboard cover. That meant it was both slower but larger than a normal bullet.

"They've repaired the bleed, sutured up the surrounding tissue and are putting the finishing touches on the entry wound itself. He's doing really well. He'll need a pint more of blood but he'll be fine and should be out of the hospital in a few days."

"I'm A+ if you need blood. I don't know his blood type."

"It's A+ also. See, already you're learning his deep, dark secrets."

"Yeah, I always ask my dates for their blood types. Saves time later on."

They both laughed. Ellie asked her how they met and she told her truthfully that they'd met in an online chat room and hit it off and then made a dinner date. They'd connected and she'd thrown caution to the wind and asked him to go to Mexico for the weekend but they'd settled on Santa Catalina and Avalon.

"He's a nice guy who's gotten some bad breaks in life, Karen. He's my brother but I know his faults. He loves too hard and too fast and he's loyal to a fault. His last two relationships were disasters. He was engaged and she cheated on him and got caught and his last girlfriend… Karen, she was my best friend and she just dumped him without warning saying she wasn't over her old boyfriend. I thought she was The One but we'd all misjudged her. She's just a damned good actress and she hurt him, badly."

Karen started to say something but she cut her off. "Karen, if this is just a temporary thing for you, please end it now. I don't know why but all the women he's been with have betrayed him and hurt him horribly. Please, don't do that to my brother."

"I … this is … I like him. I don't invite casual affairs, Ellie. I'm looking for Mr. Right, not Mr. Right Now, can you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, and I'm glad we understand each other. Now, I'll have someone come and get you and sneak you into the recovery room. I'll find out his room number and I'll meet your there later. Don't worry. Everything's going to be fine."

Karen was standing against the wall of the recovery room trying to remain small and unobtrusive. When the orderlies moved him from the gurney to the bed he groaned in pain and it tore at her heart. He was so pale, so fragile, not at all like the laughing guy she found so attractive. His breathing was shallow and rapid and he was shivering.

"It's normal. He's coming down from the anesthetic and the shock of all that's happened is just catching up with him. It's horrible when a couple can't have a cup of coffee in this town without being shot at or worse. He'll be here for an hour or so before being transferred to his room. We normally don't allow 'visitors' but Dr. Ellie asked so you're an exception."

The nurse fussed a bit more and then left after pulling a chair from the corner of the room and putting it next to his bed.

She held his hand and it was so cold. She rubbed it and then put it up next to her cheek. It was comforting to her even if it was cold. He had such wonderful hands and his touch was like nothing she could remember. It was like all his efforts went into anything he did, from touching to kissing to…

He started mumbling in his sleep. He called out for Sarah to get into the van and then he mumbled that it hurt but he could do it. Then he started asking her 'why, why can't you love me? What is so wrong with me, Sarah? Just tell me and I'll fix it.' It was heartbreaking to know he loved her so much and she just turned her back on such a wonderful man for the job.

Ten minutes later he opened his eyes and smiled at her. "Hey, Karen, I didn't see you in the van…did you get hurt, too? Are you OK? I can't lose you, too."

"I'm fine, Chuck. Ellie snuck me into the recovery room, sweetie. Your cover is that we were having coffee over on Crenshaw and got caught in the crossfire from some gangbangers. Your team's safe, Chuck. You got them home." She saw confusion about the cover and relief about his team.

"I did, didn't I? I didn't screw this up. Casey and Sarah won't have to drive me out into the desert now. That's what Casey said they'd have to do, you know, drive me out into the desert and kill me. It'll happen some day, baby, and I'll miss you but don't worry, you'll be safe. You're a spy just like them, see? And they take care of their own. Just ask Sarah about Bryce and Cole and all the others she's 'taken care of'."

She knew he wasn't aware of anything, not really. He was still groggy and confused by the anesthetic.

"Chuck, I'm not a spy any longer. I got hurt. And I quit. It cost me my marriage and I quit. Don't quit on us, baby. You'll be OK. I won't let them hurt you anymore." She was going to have a long talk with Walker and John. No wonder he didn't trust anyone anymore. Long drive out to the desert…she'd take him off the grid if she even suspected that might happen.

**Castle**

General Beckman was in rare form. Sarah was certain that in the right light you could see wisps of smoke coming out of her ears.

"You…you…idiots! How could you not know that he was hit? How could you not have checked on him? Did either of you try to talk to him or did you just 'ignore the nerd' because his special skills weren't needed for the mission? I read the medical report and I've spoken with the doctors who operated on him. An inch lower and the artery would have been severed and no one would have known and he'd have bled out in minutes."

"General, with all due respect, he never made a sound. We had no idea he'd been…"

"Major Casey, your comments and behavior toward the intersect are despicable. You seem to forget that I have access to internal security tapes and lately I've been reviewing them. All of them. There will be no more talk of 'one-way trips to the desert', is that perfectly clear, Major Casey?"

Casey blushed and Walker almost smiled. The General caught it and went off on Sarah.

"Agent Walker, wipe that smile off your face. It seems to me that you are as culpable as Major Casey when it comes to dealings with the intersect. It's not Major Casey who has…affected him in such a profoundly negative manner, is it? No. It is you, Miss Priss."

"Now, I have gone to a great deal of trouble to keep this team intact but one more screw up and I'll replace you both with agents who are also human beings!"

She disconnected the briefing without another word.

"Well, that sucked. He isn't even here and he's screwing up my life. Why couldn't your old boyfriend have picked _any_one else to send the damned intersect to?"

"Casey, you _are_ an asshole. You blame everything on anybody else. Start taking responsibility for your actions. And I don't know what's happening in your little Neanderthal brain but ever since Chuck started dating you've been on his ass. Stop it, Casey. Now. If you cost me this assignment I'll hunt you down and geld you."

"Why the sudden change of heart? Figure Cole will at least know where to find you the next time he needs his oil changed?"

The slap was sudden and loud. "Not another word, _partner_. Not one more word."

Sarah stormed up the steps and out to her car and went home. She wanted to go see Chuck but couldn't figure out how to explain her presence to Ellie if she saw her. She'd just wait for a few days. She'd see him at the Castle and she'd make him listen.

**Burbank General Hospital**

Burbank, CA

Visiting hours had sucked the life out of him. It seemed like half the Buy More staff had come by and he'd toyed with the idea of asking for visitors to be restricted to family members only but realized that would automatically exclude Sarah and he was still hoping she'd stop by. He missed her. They'd been friends, that's all she said they could ever be and he'd broken that off. But still, he missed her.

Ellie dropped by on her way home. She looked tired and Chuck wanted her to go home with Devon and sleep. He knew how she worried about him. She worried about mundane things. He didn't want to know how she'd worry if she knew about his secret life.

"So, little brother, I met Karen. I like her. She's very different from the others you dragged home. She's smart but vulnerable and she has the hots for you something fierce. And she sure doesn't look or act thirty-six."

"Please, Ellie, 'hots'? That's so juvenile." He laughed at the expression on her face.

"Chuck, I think the anesthesia may have affected you. You're sounding…mature and that's not like you at all."

"Go home, Ellie. I'll be fine. I just want to sleep. Honest. Did you think to ask her about dinner? I think she lives on take out."

"No, but give me her number and I'll call her. She's really nice, Chuck, and so natural. She's easy to talk to and she really cares. Be nice to this one."

"Out. I'm nice to all my women, all hundred of them. Out, Ellie. I'm tired of visitors. I need a vacation to recover from all these visitors. Go."

"I'll call Karen and then stop by tomorrow. Casey was out in the hall, by the way. He didn't come with the other Buy More people."

"He doesn't like anyone. I'm sure you're mistaken."

She kissed him on the cheek and left. She was sure it was John Casey. Devon called him 'surly John' and the nickname stuck.

Chuck was asleep when Casey and Walker slipped into his room. He was shocked at how pale and drawn Chuck looked and Walker just stood at the foot of his bed and stared. He still had IV's running in the back of one hand and the pulse ox and heart monitor were steadily beeping and clicking.

She slid up the side of his bed and took his free hand in hers. It was cold, almost like a corpse. She shuddered when she thought just how close he'd come to being a corpse.

She put his hand under the cover and pulled it up around his shoulders. Once upon a time…but not now. Probably not ever.

"Let's go. He's tired and I know he really doesn't want to see me…us."

"Yeah. He's lucky though. Another inch and we'd be looking at his corpse. If the bullet hadn't hit the dash cover…"

"Yeah. Look at him, Casey. He's real lucky." He winced at her sarcasm but she was right.


	10. Sarah Meets Kara Now Karen

Thelaststraw5Fv3

Karen Fisher came just as the two were leaving. It was an awkward moment for Sarah but a worse one for Casey. He slipped up, big-time.

"Well, Kara, coming to sit with the boy-toy?" He wished to God he'd never said it. He wanted to take it back the instant he uttered it.

"Don't 'Kara' me, Major Casey. It's Karen. 'Kara' is gone, dead, no longer around, understand? And he's more of a man than you'll ever hope to be in the areas that count, Major. He's loving and caring and puts others first and he's living in Hell but still he maintains those qualities. And he's loyal and honorable, two things you left at the door when you joined the NSA."

"Kara, please, I didn't mean…"

"Get out of his room, the both of you. I'll bet you flip a coin to see who gets to take him out into the desert and shoot him when the Hag decides his usefulness has ended. Oh, yeah, I know about that. He was delirious and frantic that his team was in trouble and if he disappointed you, well, you remember what you said, don't you?" She turned away from them and pulled a chair from the corner of the room put her purse and pillow and a blanket on the bed and sat down and took his hand from under the covers and held it.

The two agents walked back to the elevators, neither looking or speaking to each other until they got in the car.

"'Kara?'" Sarah was curious.

"Not going to talk about it, Walker, it's old news and doesn't matter anymore."

Sometime during the night Chuck woke shouting from a nightmare. Karen was instantly at his side speaking softly and calming him down. She remembered another young man who shouted out in dreams. She wondered what happened to him. She lost track of him somewhere along the way.

When Ellie walked to Chuck's room to check on him she saw a note on the door that read simply "Please – do not disturb – visitors must check in with the on-duty nurse". Intrigued, she went and found the head nurse for the floor.

"Say, what's with the sign on my brother's door? Visitors becoming a problem?"

"No. I didn't want them disturbed. He had a bad night and she finally got him calmed down and asleep around 3am. Let them sleep, OK, Dr. Bartowski?"

"Them?"

"Girlfriend. Hasn't left his side except to go to work since he got here. Comes in every night and leaves early for work. That girl has it bad, almost as bad as the blonde who was here with the big guy. Your little brother is a player, Dr. Ellie. Two hot women and they almost came to blows over him." She was exaggerating but it never hurt to have the gossip mill owe her one.

"Well, I'll leave them alone. Just make sure she isn't late for work. He'd feel guilty about it. That's how he is."

'Two hot women? A blonde with a big guy?' Curious, Ellie opened the door a crack. Chuck had his good arm around Karen and she was curled up with one arm protectively over him. 'Oh, yeah, this one is a keeper, Chuck.'

Karen woke at 6:30 and slipped from under his arm and cleaned up her mess and left. She had time off accrued from work but decided she'd save it for when they could share a long weekend – several if she had her way.

Sarah watched as the short brunette left his room and slipped in as soon as she was in the elevator. He was sleeping peacefully, a slight smile on his face that broke her heart. She used to see that smile during their cover sleep-overs and she always imagined she was the one who put it there. It was the final straw that broke her. She sobbed and ran from the room and down the stairs. It was over. She'd broken him, left him vulnerable and alone and someone without her baggage was putting that smile on her love's face now.

She drove to the Castle, determined to catch up on her paperwork. Casey was already there, cleaning a weapon and working on a drag on the trigger he swore he could feel. He looked like he hadn't slept at all the previous night.

**Castle**

"So, Casey, what's the story with you and ex-Agent Fisher?"

"I told you I wasn't going to talk about it. It's old news. Just think 'Chuck and Sarah' only 8 years from now. That's all I'm going to say. No, I will say one thing more. If this thing with Bartowski is real, do something about it or you're looking at who you'll be 8 years from now and it ain't a pretty sight." He threw the weapon back together and pulled the trigger. No drag.

"Casey, is that why you've been busting his balls since he started dating? Is Karen your 'Chuck'?"

"Not unless you and he marry and then divorce, driven apart by the job. But yeah, it could be the reason. You know we shouldn't fall in love, Sarah, not people like us doing what we do."

"John, I'm so sorry. I didn't know. But Chuck must know. He would flash on anyone in government service, wouldn't he?"

"Nope, not her. Totally redacted. Hell, her name isn't really Karen Fisher and she's had a lot of 'work' done, again for the damned job. I'm telling you, Walker, if you really think Chuck's your future, do something about it now. Don't use the job as an excuse. Get off your ass and do something before he's gone, either for real or taken off the market by someone like Fisher. Or you'll end up like me, and that's something I wouldn't wish on even Bryce Larkin."

**Casa Bartowski**

Chuck was released from the hospital and Ellie and Devon drove him home. He had to wear a sling and he was given a big rubber band thing by a therapist who showed him exercised to rebuild his strength in the damaged muscles. He was given a prescription for pain and Ellie had it filled before they left the hospital but he just put it on his desk. He wouldn't take narcotics. He was afraid it would affect his ability to flash.

Karen came for dinner that night and the evening was as nice as any he could remember. She'd reached over, unasked, and cut his meat for him since he was wearing the damned sling, never stopping her conversation with Ellie. It was such a nice and natural thing to do. Devon raised his eyebrows and Chuck just smiled a small smile he reserved for 'special moments'. Their relationship was interesting and they found they had more in common every day.

While Ellie and Karen sat in the kitchen talking about Chuck, Devon sat Chuck down to talk about Sarah. He'd been doing rounds on the surgical floor and he'd seen Karen leave and Sarah slip in only to run out moments later sobbing. He'd almost run into the room thinking something bad had happened but he found Chuck asleep.

"I don't know why she came or why she suddenly left in tears, Devon. I quit trying to figure her out a long time ago. It just wasn't meant to be. She's still hung up on her old boyfriend and I was just someone she was using to get over him, that's all. I figured it out early on but hell, Devon, I was already in too deep emotionally to call it quits. Now I have Karen and I'm happy, happier than I ever was with Walker, understand?"

"Yep, Bro, and I for one am damned glad you have her. Hell of a lady you found, Bro, don't screw it up." Chuck thought how much he sounded like Casey with that comment.

"Yeah, well, I seem to screw up with ladies so we'll see how long it'll be until I mess this one up. We'll see."

Chuck walked Karen out to her car and she asked him, point blank, if he wanted to end this now and just stay friends or if he wanted to see where life would take them.

"Why would you think I wanted to end this, Karen? Am I going too fast, pushing you? Do you want to ease up and not see each other for a while? Is that what you want?"

"No, Chuck, I don't want to break this off, I just want to make sure you're aware of how emotionally invested in you I'm becoming. I watched you almost die, Chuck, and it scared the shit out of me. I need to know this isn't some rebound from Walker, Chuck. I'm not interested in being anyone's rebound girl."

"Look, what do you want me to say? If you have doubts, then let's end this now. I've been happier these past weeks than I've been in a long time and I'm getting used to being happy and I don't want to lose it. And since you are the one making me so damned happy, by extension, I don't want to lose you. That's it. That's my story and I'm sticking to it."

"OK. That's good enough for me. That's all I wanted, Chuck, was honesty and I got it. I like you a lot, sweetie, and I want to spend as much time as we can together. I think there's potential here and I'm like you. I'm ridiculously happy and I don't want to lose the man who makes me feel that way. Now, carefully put your arm around me and rock my world, Bartowski. I've missed your kisses, Chuck. I've missed you."

**Castle**

Chuck reviewed the dailies and sent his email response to Beckman for analysis by her staff. There were no earth-shattering gems in all the paper he'd waded through, just some niggling activities that he couldn't associate with anything big. He told her that there were actions on the fringe of their spheres of influence that would require monitoring but that he had not been able to 'connect the dots' yet but would keep reviewing the files for possible connections and intel.

John Casey knew he'd screwed up and blown any possibilities of friendship with his asset. He was jealous and he was taking out his frustrations on his asset and Beckman was absolutely right that it was not professional. He needed to apologize but he couldn't find the words now that he had the opportunity.

He brought Chuck a cup of coffee and tried to strike up a conversation but Chuck just finished up the dailies and locked them in the safe and left. Damn but that kid was stubborn.

Chuck walked up the stairs using the railing to assist him. For some reason having one arm in a sling was weirding out his balance or maybe it was the stupid pain pill he'd finally taken after sleeping on his arm wrong. As Sarah walked down the stairs Chuck eased over to allow her to pass. She looked at him and smiled but he just mumbled a good morning without eye contact and pulled himself up the stairs and out of the Castle.

"Well, I see you had the same luck I had in trying to get a word out of him. I was trying to apologize and he just picked up his work and put it in the safe and left."

"Yeah, I think this is the end of the Team. He doesn't want to be around us and we can't function without communicating. It's like missing a hand. It's so damned frustrating."

"You give anymore thought to our conversation the other night?"

"Yeah, I've done little else but think about how I can crack that thick skull of his open enough to pour in my sob story. He won't give me the opportunity to talk. He's either in that damned cage of his or he's home or out with _her_."

Chuck drove Ellie's car home and went back to bed. His arm was aching and his head was spinning from the damned pain pill. Finally finding a comfortable position, he went back to sleep. He'd be rid of the sling in a few days and maybe then he'd feel normal.


	11. Sarah Nags Chuck to Death

Thelaststraw5gVer2

T/N: I'm cleaning up this crap as fast as I can. Review if you want more. I don't care. I got exams to grade. Damn I'm getting like him. NicoleF

* * *

**Casa Bartowski**

It seemed like he'd only been asleep a few seconds but it was dark when his cell phone woke him.

"Bartowski, secure."

"Casey, secure. We need you at the Castle. Can you drive or do you want someone to come get you?" He'd send Walker.

"Let me see if Ellie's here. If I can't borrow her car I'll call you back for a ride."

Ellie was at work so he called Casey back. "OK, Chuck. Sit tight. I'll have Walker pick you up on her way in."

"Um, no, it's really out of her way. I'll see you in fifteen minutes. I'll get a cab."

"Chuck, wait, she's…" 'already on her way.' He was talking to dial tone. Stubborn idiot.

Chuck called for a cab and waited out front for it. He saw Walker's Porsche coming down the road and he stepped into the shadows so she wouldn't see him. She parked and walked up through the courtyard to his apartment and he slipped out and got in the cab that had just pulled up. Another bullet dodged.

Sarah Walker debated about knocking on the door or using the Morgan door. She didn't want to have to face Ellie or Devon so she slid down and opened the window and slipped inside. His watch and cell phone were gone and his light was out. Damn it, she'd missed him. She drove back to the Castle, highly pissed.

* * *

**Castle**

"Where is Agent Walker, Major Casey? She's late."

"She went to pick up Bartowski but he'd already taken a cab. She'll be here momentarily.

"Mr. Bartowski, this mission will not require any physical exertion on your part, can you handle sitting in the van or is your injury too painful?" Chuck didn't know if she was being sarcastic or not and didn't care.

"Fully capable within the parameters you've described, General." Two could play at the 'bureaucrat game'. Beckman looked amused and snappish at the same time.

"Good. Now, Casey, bring Agent Walker up to speed when she arrives. Your mission is a repeat of the night of Mr. Bartowski was injured. Our source reports that a large shipment of counterfeit $20 bills will be transported by truck to Mexico. Your job is to identify the truck and then turn the information over to Treasury and Customs and they'll make the arrests."

"Ma'am, do we even need Bartowski for this? Isn't this a straight forward sneak and peek?"

"Mr. Bartowski will handle communications and also view video feeds from your cams and report any flashes. If there's nothing else…"

"General, there were no loading facilities for trailer trucks at the warehouse. It was strictly a rail site. There's a trucking terminal at the end of the row of warehouses that's still in operation. It makes more sense to be doing the printing and drying there since it's right where the transportation is located."

Beckman mulled over Chuck's contribution. She checked the ownership of the terminal and provided a repeat of her display for Chuck in the Castle. He flashed on the corporation and owners. A front operation for narcoterrorists operating out of northern Mexico. Their 'president' was Alfredo Montez y Alba, also the reputed head of the cartel. He had expanded his influence to include the Japanese home islands through the Yakuza syndicates and their operations in Japan and Europe. He related this to Beckman.

"Change in target. You two agents will infiltrate the terminal and determine if the operation is based there and then withdraw and report. I'm tasking a unit of strikers from the L.A. station to provide additional manpower. Mr. Bartowski, under no circumstances are you to become actively involved in this operation. You are still recovering from a wound. Two strikers will be assigned to guard the van but they are not cleared for the intersect. Do you understand?"

"Yes, crystal clear. Sit, observe, flash if possible, do not leave the van. Got it."

"That is all. Good luck." She disconnected the briefing and the logo floated across the screen.

Sarah gave Casey a look and then said, "Well, Chuck, are you really feeling well enough for this? You're still pale and using a sling. We could handle this remotely from the Castle. I should have suggested that to Beckman."

"Casey already did and she said 'no'. I'm fine, Agent. Let's get this done. I go back to work tomorrow and joy, oh, joy, I get to open the store." He stood up and removed the sling from over his head and moved his arm slowly. "Good as new."

"Chuck, I really need to talk to you about something. Can you tear yourself away from the reports long enough to listen to me?"

"Sure. You have my undivided attention. Say what you have to say." He continued reviewing the floor plans, alarm system data and possible access and exit points if the team got in trouble.

"Never mind. I can take a hint. Sorry to have bothered you, Mr. Bartowski." Heavy sarcasm.

Chuck was suddenly very interested in the floor plan and alarm system.

"There are more alarm terminals and sensor units in the building that there are doors and windows. That makes no sense unless there are hidden rooms or offices not shown on this diagram. What do you make of that?"

Sarah was seething and wasn't paying attention to what he was saying. She wanted to explain things to him, tell him how she felt and all he wanted to do was discuss the damned mission.

"Damn it, Chuck, I'm trying to talk to you about something important to us and you won't even look at me. What's wrong with you?"

He looked at her, capturing her gaze and hardening his own. "What's wrong, Agent Walker, is that the floor plans are screwy and there might be rooms or areas we won't find if we don't trace the alarm wiring to these unaccounted for sensors. You're supposed to be the damned professional agent, pay attention to the damned mission. Isn't that what you want? Another successful mission for your resume? Another notch in your belt? That's all you really wanted and worried about for two - damned - years, Sarah, your precious CIA career, and suddenly you want to talk?"

"If you want to talk, we'll talk after the mission. I will not be responsible for getting someone hurt because I didn't cover all the angles. You have a vested interest in my performance, Agent Walker, since it's your ass that's going to be out there."

"Forget it, Bartowski. I was wrong to even think you might… Just forget it."

He turned back to the monitor, making notations on the smart screen with a light pen and printing out copies of the floor plan.

Chuck slowly put on his vest and then his jacket. It was raining – again – in sunny California. He gave Casey the floor plan copies with notations for distribution and then went up and got in the van. His arm was aching but he ignored it. '_Now_ she wants to talk…'

"Sarah, you should have waited. He's focused on the mission and that's the way it should be. Wait until it's over and I'll disappear and you can have your say. Just…be sure this is what you want because you'll be hurting two other people if you're wrong."

They got their equipment and went up to the van. Casey turned to Chuck and handed him a 9mm Beretta. "Just in case."

**Mission Van**

Chuck sat in the van and fidgeted with his vest. The damned right-hand strap cut directly over his bandage and it ached from the pressure.

Sarah saw him fiddling with the strap and said harshly, "Leave the damned vest alone, it's to protect you when we're not with you. Haven't you learned anything in two years?"

"Oh, yeah, I've learned a great deal. I'm just trying to relieve the pressure on these stitches. The strap is pulling…"

"Oh, for God's sake, grow up and live with it. It's just for an hour or two. Surely you can handle a little irritation for that long?" Casey shot her a look that said 'shut up' but she ignored him and kept on nagging at him about anything that came to mind.

Chuck sighed and looked out the window, wishing he were anywhere else but in the van so he could take off the damned vest. He thought a few of his stitches had torn and he could feel the blood soaking his shirt. She heard the sigh and started round 2.

"Oh, what's the matter now, hurt feelings?

"Nope. I'm fine." He closed his eyes and thought about the damned extra sensors. He ignored her bitching for the remainder of the drive to the terminal and that made her even madder.

**Trucking Terminal**

When Casey parked the van across the lot from the trucking terminal Chuck moved back and set up the communications programs and activated their cams. After confirming communications, he leaned back in the chair, fastened his belt out of habit and waited for the op to begin.

"Stay in the van. Do not leave, understand? You're supposed to be smart so learn this lesson well: stay in the fucking van, Mr. Bartowski."

Casey practically dragged her out of the van and shoved her against it. "What the hell is your problem, Walker? He's doing his job and all you've managed to do is tear up what little cohesiveness we have left as a team. And what's with those smart-assed comments? He's doing what he's supposed to be doing and you, you better get your head in the game. Settle this thing between you two tonight or I'll ask Beckman to reassign you. If you can't settle it, then at least act like a professional. You're just giving him more reasons not to want to talk to you or is that the whole point of all this…driving him away – again?"

"No, Casey, that's not it at all."

"No, it's not. You want _him_ to be the one to quit, to push _you _away, that way you can feel all self-righteous about screwing him over one last time. And it will be the last time, Sarah. Remember what I said."

Chuck's voice came over the comms. "All right, the clock is running and we're behind the curve. Let's get this done. I'm opening the store in the morning."

They'd passed the first series of offices without any sign of a printing operation. Just as they passed the first of the sensors Chuck had questioned, Casey's cam picked up a familiar shape. "Freeze! Casey pan left until I tell you to stop. Stop. All teams freeze in place. Do not move. Walker, pan right…stop."

"What's going on, Mr. Bartowski? This is delaying our search." Sarah hadn't listened to Casey at all and her comments dripped with sarcasm.

"If you move 6 inches forward you'll complete your search in perforated pieces. Casey, shine a light on that junction box."

"Shit, Chuck, you were right. Claymores." Out in the parking lot the two NSA guards came under fire from behind some conex containers and were advancing to take them out. It was standard NSA doctrine.

"Chuck? Chuck? Walker, can you reach Chuck? My radio must be bad."

"Casey, that's gunfire outside the terminal. All units abort and fall back to the assembly point. It's a trap! Fall back!"

The two NSA strikers were drawn off and another cartel team opened the van door and attempted to drag Chuck out but his seat belt saved him. Their objective was to blind the NSA team and destroy their communications, and then the team itself, piecemeal if the explosives left anyone alive.

Chuck picked up the pistol Casey had given him and shot the man trying to drag him from the van. He panicked and fired 5 times. The other two cartel thugs began spraying the interior of the van with unaimed automatic weapons fire and managed to hit him three times in the chest as well as destroy his console and a lot of other equipment. They also riddled their comrade but he was beyond caring. Chuck's vest absorbed the bullets but the sledgehammer blows knocked the wind out of him and he slumped in the chair restrained by a forgotten but life-saving seatbelt, unconscious with the dead thug laying against him.

The two strikers realized they'd been suckered in and rushed back to the van followed in minutes by the two agents and the remaining strikers. The two guards explained that they'd begun taking fire and assaulted the cartel hoods but had returned when they heard the gunfire from the van. The attackers had fled leaving one dead thug in the van. "The commo guy killed him. The others just opened up, hoping to get lucky, and they did."

Casey looked in and saw Chuck slumped in the seat apparently dead with his assailant draped across his frame. The van was shot up, seat padding and filler filaments floated in the air. The floor was awash with blood from the body of the Cartel hood. He turned to Walker and said, "You don't have to worry about pushing him away any more, Sarah."


	12. Such a Deal I Have For You Chuck

Thelaststraw5H

T/N: I felt guilty about the way I left this. Sorry. NicoleF

* * *

Sarah jumped into the van, dragged the dead cartel thug off him and released his seat belt. He flopped against her in a macabre parody of an embrace. She tore open his jacket and vest and saw the blood that had soaked his shirt. Her scream could be heard a hundred yards away and then she screamed for a medic.

She was holding him against her, rocking him back and forth as she repeated his name over and over, telling him she loved him and that she was sorry for denying it. A medevac landed and the medics pulled him from her and hustled him onto the waiting chopper that immediately took off.

Now aware of the dangers, Casey sent in a bomb disposal team and they quickly cleared the area and Casey and the NSA teams searched and located both the printing press and dryer. They searched the crates and found shrink-wrapped bundles of counterfeit US currency neatly packaged and ready for shipment. They called in the Treasury agents and returned to the Castle for debriefing.

**Castle**

As Casey parked the van, he looked at Walker who appeared to be in shock. "Walker, pull it together. We don't know if he's dead. He was wearing a vest. The blood could have come from anywhere."

All she could think of was the smell of his blood and the feel of it on his saturated shirt when she'd ripped off the vest. Her hands were covered with it.

Beckman initiated the debriefing and refused to acknowledge Sarah's questions regarding Chuck. The general waited until the last minute to provide an update on the asset's condition. "He's being treated at an NSA facility near Los Angeles. I don't know his condition yet but I will advise you in the morning. Excellent work, agents."

She disconnected the circuit. 'Let her stew in her own juices for a while. I watched the surveillance tapes of the early evening and I have to admire Bartowski's focus. And he saved his team and enabled them to accomplish their mission. Maybe he _should _carry a firearm or that damned tooth.'

Sarah showered in the Castle and curled up in one of the detention cells to sleep. She wanted an update on Chuck's condition and planned on calling Beckman 'first thing in the morning' – Beckman's morning. She slept and woke, slept and woke, plagued by dreams of what should have been, not what was.

Casey called Karen Fisher. It was a call he hated to make for a myriad of reasons. He pushed down the green eyed monster when she answered with her soft and sleepy 'hello'.

"Karen, John Casey. Karen…"

"Is he dead, Johnny, is that why you're calling? Please, he's not dead, is he?"

"No, um, actually, we don't know. He's in an NSA facility in L.A. and I don't have any way to contact them to get a status and Beckman's being a tart about sharing information all of a sudden. I – I just thought you'd want to know, that's all."

"Thank you for that. I'll wait on an update from you. I'll be dressed and ready to leave at a moment's notice." She sounded calm and cool but inside she was dying and she had tears running down her cheeks.

**NSA Medical Facility  
Los Angeles, CA  
36 hours later**

The beeping of the heart monitor and the periodic pulsing and shushing of the automated blood pressure cuff woke him. His mouth was gummy and his shoulder hurt. "Shit, not again!"

He felt around and found the self-administering sedative thing but was feeling around for the call button. He found it and pushed it regularly for what seemed to be hours but was really just 30 seconds.

"Ah, sleeping beauty awakes. How nice to see you awake, Mr. Bartowski. Now, first, your team made it safely back to their operational facility without casualties. The mission was successfully completed."

"Second, you have had your external suturing repaired and third, you did not do any further damage to your original wound. You scared the hell out of your team mates though."

"I can discharge you as soon as you can get dressed and arrange for transportation. Your chest will be quite sore for some time and you should really use the sling, but…I understand your position. A nurse will be in to aid you. Good day, Mr. Bartowski."

Chuck just blinked. A doctor answered every question he might have had without Chuck saying a word. Incredible.

A nurse came in and helped him dress. He was clean and asked about it. "You had a sponge bath earlier after your surgery. You've slept for over 30 hours. Do you have someone to call who can come for you?"

His first thought was Sarah but he squelched that thought. Lost cause and too much bitterness there. He'd never understand women. He asked for his cell phone but apparently it was lost 'in combat'. He supplied the nurse with Karen's number and hoped she wouldn't mind picking him up.

The nurse returned looking surprised and asked Chuck to get into the wheelchair for a ride to the 'conference center'. He gingerly sat down and was whisked down a narrow corridor and into a modern communications center. Diane Beckman was on the wide screen monitor.

"You're looking very spry for a dead man, Chuck. Your team is fine, a little disorganized and splintered but you know all about that. In fact, you seem to be the only one who has any idea what's going on. Care to share?"

Chuck just sat there, staring. She called him Chuck and was actually amused by his team's troubles.

"Ah, General, you have me at a disadvantage. I have no idea what you're talking about. Casey and Walker are consummate professionals and do their jobs and do them well."

"I'm talking about the last mission. You were the only one who had it together. When Walker tried to talk to you about your 'relationship' you stayed focused on the mission, discovering the first hints of the trap that awaited your team. By the way, your team thinks you're in 'dire straits' and before you get all honorable on me let me explain the reason for this deception."

"I've considered this for quite a while and recent events and behavior of your handlers have prompted a reexamination of the staffing. I consider your current handlers as totally unsuitable to your developing skills. They've become almost abusive to you, Mr. Bartowski, and I will not allow that."

Chuck felt a wave of panic. Casey and Walker replaced?

"With all due respect, General, you wouldn't be discussing this with me unless you felt I was the direct cause of problem, am I right?"

"You've done nothing wrong. You've tried to serve two masters, the intelligence community and the rest of the world. You've done your best but it's taken its toll on you as a person. I want you to come work for us full time. Work for the NSA as a Consulting Analyst, a new position, that functions in the field in tandem with a team of agents, not from some remote office."

"Who are the members of this team, General? And why can't we continue as we have been? A solid record of successes and triumphs. You can't attribute that all to just the intersect. It takes a team, General."

"Karen Fisher would be joining the Team Intersect with the understanding that your personal business is just that, Chuck, your personal business. She would be your bodyguard and companion."

"Was she the honey trap, General? Walker couldn't or wouldn't do it so you got Fisher to do it?"

"No. Walker is too emotionally unstable and Casey has issues best not discussed. I will introduce you to your new team members when you're back on your feet. Agent Fisher is waiting for you in the lobby, Chuck, and we'll talk again in two weeks. Enjoy Puerto Rico and get back on your feet. That's all."

"General, wait. Why are you dumping Casey and Walker? They're…I…I wouldn't have made it this far without them, General. Please, please reconsider this action. It's not how you reward loyal and devoted service. Put them on probation or something. I won't work without them, General. I don't trust anyone else."

"You have no idea…

"I know about Casey's order to kill me and I know Walker was supposed to be the honey trap if need be but we're a team. Add Fisher _if she really wants it_, but don't require her to be my 'companion'. That's just another word for whore. 'Companion' just sounds better."

Beckman sighed. She'd considered just this response but hadn't given it much credence. The profilers were spot on in their analysis. The team had to stay intact for Bartowski to function at optimum.

"Fine, Chuck. We'll review the situation again in 90 days. Now, Fisher is waiting for you. She bugged the hell out of me for your location. It's not a requirement with her, it's a desire. Stay well and enjoy a well-deserved vacation because when you return, I'm going to work you butt off, Analyst Bartowski."

An hour later Chuck got off the elevator and walked into the lobby of an insurance company that he'd once installed a network for. Incredible.

"Hey, sweetie, looking for a good time?"


	13. Bartowski and the Bodyguard at the Beach

Thelaststraw5Jv2

Some of you are complaining about being too hard on Sarah and I should 'lighten up'. **I just post, not write. And you hungry and selfish readers better start reviewing. I need a big number or he's gonna be mad for invaiding his privacy. And i have to live with him if he ever gets home. **

NicoleF

* * *

She was smiling but it slipped when she saw the look on his face her comment had caused…Beckman had called her and warned her about how he received the news.

"I'm here because I want to be, Charles Bartowski. No amount of money, power or fame could make me spread my legs for the greater good. If you don't believe me, we need to end this right here and now." Her eyes were shining with unshed tears but she forced herself to stare him in the eyes, daring him to deny her.

"I have just one question and I want _your_ answer, not the agency's, understand?" She nodded her head and waited, fighting not to cry.

"Was this all a set up? The chat room, the dating, Avalon? Was any of it real, Karen?"

"It is now, baby, real, I mean. In the beginning, no. Beckman was in a bind and needed girls to date an important asset. No big deal. We were told to be ourselves, nothing more. If something developed, so be it. There was no requirement to screw the mark, if that's what you really want to know. Avalon was real, Chuck, Avalon and everything after it was all so very real."

He reached out and used his thumb to catch a tear before it fell. "No tears, Karen, no fears and nothing but sunshine and good times. Take me home, babe, I need to get rid of this hospital stink and then I think I'm going on vacation."

"You mean _we_ are going on vacation, Chuck. I took the job, sweetie, because it would keep us together and you safe. Ain't nobody messin' with my man."

"We fly out of Burbank on a government jet first thing in the morning and we're booked into a private resort with full services just outside San Juan. All the 'guests' are NSA or CIA employees on R&R or convalescing like you are. Totally secure and really posh. We're going to have so much fun, Chuck…"

**Castle**

"Major Casey and Agent Walker, Mr. Bartowski has been transferred to a secure location for at least a week, possibly more. His earlier injuries were aggravated by the events of the last mission. He is convalescing and receiving 24/7 attention and care. Barring any medical complications, he will return to duty when his physicians are satisfied with his progress."

"I have offered him the position of Consulting Analyst with the NSA and he is mulling it over. He has reservations but sees the benefit to our efforts. I'm sure he'll accept because the consequences of not accepting the job are…somewhat unpleasant."

"Now, as to you two…people. I spoke at great length with Chuck. He's adamant that there be no changes in his handlers' status – against my better judgment – and that the team continue. However, I reserved the right to make my case and predictably he told me where to stuff the intersect, so we compromised."

"He keeps his team, intact, for 90 days. At the end of that period, I decide who goes and who stays. Unless you want to leave for another assignment? Agent Walker?"

"Um, no, ma'am, I'll stay."

"Major Casey?"

"I'll stay."

"Humph. Well, use the time to develop some people skills where Mr. Bartowski is concerned. Your continued bickering and back-stabbing must cease immediately."

"Oh, one more thing…Mr. Bartowski has been assigned a 'companion' and bodyguard whose only responsibility is…Chuck. She's been with him since he regained consciousness and will remain by his side until they return and she will accompany him on all missions and events. She once was an agent and has been returned to service from medical retirement. That's all." The logo screensaver of the NSA floated serenely across the screen.

"I've never heard of such a thing. A 'companion'?"

"Mr. Bartowski now has a live-in bodyguard and bed warmer, all courtesy of Diane Beckman. I guess she's his new under-the-covers cover girlfriend."

She turned and walked up the stairs and out of the Castle. She'd need to rethink her career plans. If only she had told him, made him understand and asked him to wait until the time was right…

'Well, Bartowski now has a fuck-buddy and will have to dump Kara…' Every cloud has a silver lining and John Casey was prepared to pick up the pieces.

**Casa Bartowski**

"Karen, I can't believe how lucky you are! Two weeks at an exclusive resort in Puerto Rico? Take me! Take me! Chuck won't appreciate it but I will…"

"No, Ellie. The tall one and I are going, sorry. I need the vacation and he needs time to get well. His shoulder and neck are bothering him and maybe getting away is just what we both need. And I want to spend some quality time with my guy, can you blame me?"

"Better go help him pack. He has horrible fashion sense. Take lots of pictures!" Ellie was so happy for her brother. He'd finally found someone who accepted him at face value and who wasn't afraid of a commitment. She thought of Sarah Walker and her inability to commit – that's what hurt her brother more than anything. She wouldn't commit herself to their relationship because of another guy. That wasn't going to be a problem with Chuck and Karen.

**Fisher Loft  
****Los Angeles, CA**

They spent the evening watching her vintage Star Wars on a VCR and arguing the merits of her VCR tapes or the remastered DVDs. He'd noticed that her apartment was much like she was, spontaneous, open and friendly. It was one gigantic room except for the bathroom. It was much like a loft but had lower ceilings.

Chuck woke up in the middle of the night asking himself questions about his future and the NSA job. He was going to take the job. There was never any doubt in his mind. The question was lying right beside him. Did he want her 24/7 in his life? He would be making a commitment to her as well as to the job. She seemed to like him but he'd been fooled by the master honey trapper, Sarah Walker, and he hoped Karen was different.

He knew he was emotionally needy, a high-maintenance guy who had a tendency to smother those around him with his needs and he didn't want that to happen this time.

_'I'll just talk to her, explain my emotional crap and hope she doesn't run screaming for the nearest exit. That was my problem with Walker, too needy, too insecure and too demanding. No wonder she preferred a Bryce or a Cole. No need to commit, no dealing with emotional crap, just physical sex, not that sappy crap I seem to require.'_

"Chuck, if you don't quit thinking so loudly the neighbors are going to start complaining, baby. Just relax and go back to sleep. I'm right here and I'm not going anyplace except Puerto Rico with you. Now, put your arm around me and keep me safe from bad dreams. Everything will work out. You'll see."

"Sorry, didn't know I was mumbling. Go back to sleep. I'll try and think quietly." He almost laughed. She knew his moods already.

"You weren't. I just know you. You work at things in background and sometimes you wake up and think yourself into a stupor. Sleep, dream of us on sandy beaches drinking exotic drinks with little umbrellas in them while I work on my tan in a bikini that's downright scandalously scanty. Oh, and Chuck, I don't like tan lines." Now she did giggle and rolled over and snuggled up against him and was asleep within seconds.

**CIA Residential Hotel  
****Burbank, CA**

Sarah Walker had not cried over a man since…the last time she cried over Chuck. It seemed to be a regular thing with her. Break his heart and cry over the guilt and heartache she felt afterwards. This time was different. This time…she was crying because little by little her own heart was breaking. Now she felt what he'd felt and she cried for the pain she'd caused him.

She wanted Chuck Bartowski in her life. She needed him and she'd been too stubborn and job-oriented to realize that she was happy only when she was around him. She loved him. Needed him. Required him.

She had 90 days to change into the perfect woman for Chuck Bartowski, 90 days to save her job because if she lost the job she lost her connection to Chuck. She had a mission, a personal mission, and she had an unbroken string of accomplishments. Never before had she felt this committed to something and it felt damned good.

**Burbank Airport  
****Executive Air Park Terminal**

There were no other passengers on the small executive jet that awaited them. They handed their bags off to an attendant and boarded the plane. Chuck took the aisle seat because of his long legs and Karen was quite comfortable sitting near the window.

Once they were airborne, she flipped up the armrest dividing their seats and lay down with her head in Chuck's lap and went to sleep. They'd discussed this on the way over. She was not a comfortable flier and this was one way she dealt with it. She'd wait until they reached cruising altitude before she showed Chuck the _other_ way she dealt with it.

**San Juan, Puerto Rico**  
**Aviones Executive Air Park**

Chuck and Karen were met by two agents of the NSA who identified themselves and displayed their credentials. They were escorted to a Land Rover and departed for the resort taking the 'long route' to enable them to enjoy the coastal scenery once they'd left the city. The resort was 30 minutes west of the city.

**The Retreat  
****Puerto Rico**

They'd been pre-registered as 'Mr. & Mrs. C. Carmichael' so check-in consisted of receiving brochures, room keycards and a meal schedule.

Chuck was also given a list of 'appointments' for the next day with a physician, a physical therapist and physical trainer and the couple were then escorted to their small bungalow on the beach. As their escort was leaving he handed Chuck a thick legal-sized envelope and smiled and told him to have a good evening.

Chuck read the 2-page cover letter that explained the contents and purpose of the documents. It was a two-year contract with the NSA engaging Chuck as a Consulting Analyst for the Agency. The contract would be automatically renewed upon expiration. There were schedules for salaries, benefits and other information as well as a personal note from Diane Beckman hoping he enjoyed his well-earned rest and promising him a long and illustrious career with the NSA. He snorted when he read the last line.

"What's so funny?"

"Here, read it."

"Oh, Chuck, I'm so proud of you! Ellie's going to bust a gut when she reads this. Oops. Forgot. Secrecy clause. Well, so you just tell her you work for a spy network…and then admit you're an analyst for an unknown government agency and you can't talk about it."

While Karen spent hours in the bathroom soaking in the tub and primping, Chuck read and then reread the contract. There were several clauses that contradicted others and there was no mention made of his team. That would have to change.

Popping open his laptop, he wrote an email to General Beckman and her 'legal department' pointing out the contradictions and the dearth of information regarding the staffing of his team. While he was respectful and polite, the tone left little to the imagination. Unacceptable.

Karen slipped out of the bathroom and into bed. She was tired and worried about her asset and the future. She'd made a commitment to him and he had yet to give her anything like that in return. That he appreciated her was obvious. That he liked her was equally obvious. She just didn't know if he understood the depth of her commitment. It was 'until death us do part' - his death.

When he finally came to bed after reading the contract for the fourth time and again making notes, she was annoyed and it showed.

"Chuck, we need to talk."

"Yes, Karen, we do. You go first since you brought it up."

"Fine. I've made a commitment to you when I took this job. I'm in this for the long haul. I go everywhere you go, I live with you, I play with you, I sleep with you, I go to work and on missions with you. I am your bodyguard first, your girlfriend second. You have to understand that. That's the way it has to be."

"Fine. Is that all?"

"No, Chuck, that's not all. I need to know, right now, how you feel about all this. I need to know that you're committed to this or I'll have to tell Beckman to find someone else. Like I told you, I don't spread my legs for the job."

Chuck was appalled and it must have shown on his face because she immediately tried to explain herself.

"Chuck, what I meant was the girlfriend part is not part of the job. I need to know if we're still 'Chuck & Karen' or if we're 'Analyst & his bodyguard'."

"I thought we were both. Are they mutually exclusive sets or are they parts of a larger set?"

"Huh?"

"Are you saying because you're my bodyguard you can't be my girlfriend? That it has to end because of the damned NSA? Is that what you're saying? Well, you're fired. I won't lose you, us, what we have now and might have in the future, for the damned job, understand me? I'll just take my chances and wear a vest. Now, bodyguard, get the hell out of my bed because my girlfriend's going to want to cuddle after soaking in the tub, understand?"

She had the biggest brown eyes. And they were sparkling with tears as she slowly got out of the bed and went into the bathroom.

He got up and went over to his laptop, preparing to send Beckman an email thanking her for her consideration and the job offer but he would have to decline for personal reasons. He'd just take his chances with the hole in the desert, either deep or shallow. He just didn't care anymore. Well, at least he got to see the airport in San Juan.

He was just to the part where he was declining the position for personal reasons when two smooth arms snaked around him and slammed the laptop shut.

"Come to bed, lover. I need serious cuddling. It seems I've been fired and I need my boyfriend to try and make me feel better about it. I'm sorry, Chuck, I didn't understand. I meant the commitment to me, us, not the damned bodyguard job. I understand now what you meant, honey. Karen & Chuck can be Bartowski & the Bodyguard at the same time. I just needed to hear you say it. And you said it better than I could have hoped for."

He powered down his laptop and turned and scooped her up in his arms. She'd lost the t-shirt and panties she normally slept in and was naked as the day she was born. And soon, so was he.

Later, when he could think straight, Chuck started talking to her, softly, about his neediness, his insecurities and his fear that she'd eventually do what every other woman in his life had done, hurt him and leave him alone with the pain. He asked if she was certain she could handle it because if she couldn't, no matter how he felt about her, she'd have to leave. He couldn't handle another woman breaking his heart and she could do it with a word.

"Chuck, I'm not Sarah Walker. I'm Karen Fisher and I'm your girlfriend who's also your bodyguard. My job is to protect you, even from me. I'll try never to hurt you, lover, because I feel so wonderful with you in my life. So hush, sleep. Tomorrow's full of new things and suddenly my life is full of promise."

He didn't love her. He was already in love with another. He'd have to sort out his feelings if he was going to live up to his commitment to their relationship and their jobs. Time heals all wounds and he had nothing but time and a beautiful woman by his side and his future looked promising.


	14. Klingons, Tcells, and Beckman's Dog

Thelaststraw5kv2.1

T/N: Sorry if I was snarky but I got much to do and no time. Jim's finally got a flight out of the DR, coming intonight. Going to be too busy to post and I have to explain all this. I'll blame it on you guys. Or Bush. cya monday or whenever.

NicoleF

* * *

**The Retreat  
Puerto Rico**

Chuck and Karen had breakfast in the restaurant and when Chuck reached for his wallet she laughed. "Baby, this is all free. They won't accept tips, either. It's a little known perk. Enjoy it. You've earned it."

Karen said she was heading for the spa while he had his physical and interviews with the therapist and physical trainer. She didn't need to be with him 24/7 _here,_ just in the 'real world' and he should enjoy his last day of 'freedom'. Laughing, she got up, kissed him soundly and went off to be pampered.

Chuck sat back, watching the surf and drinking the last of his coffee. His appointment was not for 30 minutes yet and he was just enjoying another 'perk'.

"_**Your mother must have been frightened of childbirth to have whelped a kraknit such as you."**_ Rendered in idiomatic Klingon.

"_**And your father never knew the dishonor your sister bore him when she bore you, ch'nik."**_

In English: "I wasn't sure I should approach you, Chuck. Here on a mission? Is it Fulcrum?"

"No, Bryce, it's convalescent leave courtesy of the Hag. Why are you here?"

"Needed a break, buddy. Also came a little too close to a great big knife." He held up his arm that was in an air cast. Chuck could see the sutures.

"Ouch, Bryce, that had to have hurt. I got shot and then shot again a week later so Beckman hustled me off to La La Land for a rest."

"So, still in Burbank?" He was fishing.

"Call her, Bryce. Don't be such a dick head. She's been pining away since you left. Call her. She's probably withering away without you."

"Um, Chuck, you and Sarah, you never connected? She told me she was in love with you and it was getting too hard to keep it under the cover." His best friend was clueless about women. Totally clueless.

"Bryce, you're so full of shit. Please, don't hassle me about Walker. I'm trying to start over and your bullshit lies aren't helping me one bit. Now, make yourself scarce or I'll sic my bodyguard on you."

"Bodyguard? What about Casey and Sarah? Aren't they with you?" Beckman would have to be insane to let the intersect waltz around Puerto Rico without his team.

"I guess things have changed. I work for the NSA now. Or I will when I sign the contract. I'll never be as good as you are, Bryce, but even us losers can contribute to the fight."

"Chuck, you're not a damned loser. If you were, I wouldn't have sent you that damned email. You're the finest man I know and the only one I knew could handle the burden. Really, Chuck, you have to get over the past. Sarah and I are done, history, long ago. She never loved me like she loves you, my friend. And Sarah Walker could never love a loser. So you're no loser. Get that shit out of your head."

"Chuck, is he bothering you, baby?" Karen walked up, heard just the last sentence and was steamed. Bryce asshole Larkin. Here. Crap.

"No, Karen. He's a…friend from Stanford. We were just catching up. Bryce, this is Karen Fisher. We're together."

Bryce schooled his features. His friend had no clue who this was. Kara Duvall Palermo, Beckman's 'special projects' girl, probably had her records altered. He needed to let Chuck's team know about her because Chuck was in a hell of a lot of trouble. All her assignments were hand picked by Diane Beckman. She was Beckman's 'problem solver' and if she was assigned to Chuck then Beckman considered him a 'problem' to be solved. She was an assassin.

"Baby, you have the doctor's appointment and the spa's booked so I'll go with you, OK? And we better hustle or we'll be late. Nice to have met you, Bryce. Maybe we'll see you later?"

"Sure. Nice to have met you too, Karen. Bryce told Chuck as he left in Klingon, **"**_**Chuck, be careful, my brother. This one is not what she seems. You are in danger. Guard yourself well."**_

"Sure thing, Bryce. Watch yourself out there."

"What was that weird stuff you two were saying? What language was that?"

"Klingon. We learned it to be able to freak out the profs when we pretended to be non-English speaking foreign exchange students. Those tutors were hot!"

"Asshole. That was just mean. Now come on, sweetie, needles and probing await."

"What? It's a physical to make sure I'm healing."

"Aww, you should have read the contract more closely, sweetie. This is a full workup. Shouldn't take more than a pint of blood and, of course, other fluids…" She whispered seductively, "I'll make it up to you tonight, Chuck. Be brave…" She giggled and scampered away before he could swat her on the butt as he was planning.

"Walker, secure."

"Larkin, secure. Sarah, what the hell is Chuck doing with Kara Duvall Palermo? She's Beckman's ace problem solver spelled 'assassin'. I ran into them here in San Juan at the Retreat. They're 'together'? Chuck's in serious trouble, Sarah, the deadly kind."

Sarah was tempted to hangup but Bryce's concerns for Chuck were sincere. So, she was the 'companion'? Bitch.

"Bryce, I'm sure you're exaggerating. She's Casey's ex-wife, for God's sake. She's an analyst at NSA Los Angeles, not an assassin. How'd he look, Bryce? He was badly hurt twice within a week. Is he OK?"

"Sarah, he's going to be killed. She's Beckman's Dog, Sarah. She's a killer and my friend's her target, I know it. Talk to Casey and see if I'm lying. He's my best friend, Sarah, my only friend. I just can't stand around and let someone kill him!"

"Then you shouldn't have sent him the damned email, Bryce. I'll talk to Casey and then do some snooping. Her name here is Karen Fisher. I'll try and have something for you this evening."

She got up and got dressed and went in to the Castle. Casey was already there.

**Castle**

"John, I need to talk to you. Larkin called. Chuck's in Puerto Rico with a woman named Kara Duvall Palermo. Know anything about that?"

Casey turned pale. He turned to Sarah and looked like he was going to vomit.

"She was my first partner and even then, at 26, she was the deadliest assassin in the Agency. She had a messed up childhood and the Agency recruited her out of juvie. She taught me everything I know. I fell in love with her and I thought she loved me but it was just a cover for her. She needed a 'husband' for legitimacy on her ops. Don't ask me why, it was never a mission requirement."

"How did she get to be Karen Fisher?" She felt the first feelings of dread low in her belly. Chuck was alone with her and had no reason to suspect she was anything other than a – government provided girlfriend.

"After the divorce she went deep cover in the Balkans. Had a string of missions for the NSA, mostly in Bosnia. I heard she got sloppy and was caught but the CIA pulled her out before she could be killed. She was considered 'emotionally unreliable' and sent down to Analysis. She changed her name and buried her past and started over."

"Larkin says she's Beckman's clean up girl, her problem solver. Is Chuck suddenly a problem for Beckman? Is Karen going to kill him? She's supposed to be his damned bodyguard not his executioner. What are we going to do, Casey? It's Chuck, not some dumb terrorist in Lower Slobovia."

"Larkin's intel is about 5 years out of date. Yeah, she cleaned up for Colonel Beckman back in the day. We both did. But no domestic work, Sarah, honest. We took out informers, double agents and terrorists. We set up intel networks also. But then she got captured and hurt so she was 'medically retired' and moved down to Analysis. It was a fresh start for her."

"You'd better be right, Casey. If anything happens to Chuck…"

"Maybe we better discuss this with Beckman. What do you say?"

"Major Casey, Agent Walker, is there a problem?" Of course there was. With these two, it was always a problem.

"General, Bryce Larkin called Agent Walker concerned about Bartowski. He ran into Chuck in Puerto Rico at the Retreat. He says he's with Kara Duvall Palermo, General, and he's concerned because she's your problem solver. I told Walker the intel was out of date, but I didn't tell her anything else except that she'd been captured, rescued and then moved down to Analysis with a complete sheep dipping of her records."

"Bryce Larkin was correct in reporting his concerns. However, his intel is out of date. She's had severe emotional problems resulting from her torture. I sent her on that mission and I've made the career moves for her to get back to where she should be. She's not his assassin, she's his bodyguard and I hope someday more. She's what Chuck needs and he's what she needs. Problem solved, I hope."

"Yes, general, sorry to interrupt you. But anything affecting the intersect is worth reporting."

"You were correct in reporting your concerns as was Larkin. Major Casey, I need to speak with Agent Walker alone, please. Leave the room and turn off your damned recorders, Casey!"

"Now, Sarah, Chuck Bartowski is an asset, an important one. You failed to report being compromised and you should have. It was as obvious as the sun in the sky. None of this would have been necessary if you'd just admitted to your situation. Things could have been so different for everyone. However, he needs a short leash and he gets along with her. Live with it. That's all."

She disconnected the circuit. Casey just shook his head. Beckman knew more than anyone suspected. Where did she find the time? He'd ignored a direct order and he was glad he did. His partner would be needing his support.

**The Retreat  
****Puerto Rico**

"Larkin, secure."

"Beckman, secure. Agent Larkin, stay away from Chuck Bartowski while he's in Puerto Rico. It's important. And please, the next time you have concerns for the intersect, use the damned chain of command, understand?"

"Yes ma'am." He was talking to dead air.

Karen hung on every word when the doctor discussed Chuck's injury, the need for some physical therapy for the shoulder muscles and his comments regarding how fortunate he'd been to survive. Chuck zoned out. He'd heard it all before. Survival was not uppermost in his mind. He was thinking about Bryce's warning.

Karen saw his look and almost laughed. 'Boredom, thy name is Chuck'. She perked back up when the doctor started talking about abnormal protein levels and antibodies in Chuck's blood. She elbowed him to get his attention and he abruptly moved from one mode to another.

"These proteins are most unusual and may be the result of contaminated transfusions. You received two pints of A+ during your initial treatment and another pint when you re-injured your unhealed wound. We'll have to monitor these levels to see if they are transient or indicative of a more serious problem."

Karen was on alert, all humor gone from her voice. "Exactly what kinds of 'more serious' problems are we talking about, doctor?"

"Well, sometimes these are indicative of Pernicious Anemia or leukemia in its earliest stages. We'll know more in 30 days when we have him retested at his home facility. For now, it's probably nothing, just contaminated blood he received via transfusion. His own immune system will deal with these traces if they originated externally."

"Isn't blood tested before it's used in a transfusion? You mean someone screwed up and he might have given Chuck some disease? Could it have been deliberate?"

"Agent Carmichael, your husband received emergency care at two different facilities. Blood is tested for a range of issues but not these proteins. He won't 'get a disease' like the two I've discussed from a transfusion. And no, I do not think it was a deliberate act."

She was on her guard. She would call Beckman and have the facilities investigated. My God, Chuck could be dying. She'd just found him. Or maybe she'd call Ellie and ask her. She'd come up with a suitable story to cover the real issues.

While Chuck was in with the physical trainer, Karen called Beckman and briefed her on the situation.

"I'll have the facilities in question thoroughly checked out. My God, on top of all this…leukemia!"

"General it's not definite. I just wanted you to know and for those hospitals to have their blood supplies and sources checked out, especially our facility."

"Good thinking. How's he doing? I received his email. Have him call me. There's a new secure phone being held at the desk for him. Pick it up for him sometime. His other phone was never found and we routed any calls to our trace facility."

"He's fine. I just wish I knew what he and Larkin were talking about in their own personal language. They learned 'Klingon' in college. Chuck said it was to enable them to have 'hot' language tutors who thought they were exchange students." They both laughed about that.

"He knows you're not who he thinks you are but nothing else. But it's enough to get his mind working where we don't want it focused. Tell him, Agent Fisher, and deal with it. He deserves the truth."

She didn't answer. She couldn't. Her heart was in her throat. She was going to lose him.

"Agent Fisher?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'll do it. Thank you."

They ate dinner in one of the better restaurants the resort offered and then went to the resort lounge and danced and drank until almost midnight. Chuck knew something was off because of the way she clung to him when they danced and because she was always several drinks ahead of him. He decided to bide his time and let her deal with her own demons.

She was feeling no pain when they left and walked along the beachfront to their bungalow. She hung on to him, talking about nothing a mile a minute.

"Karen, you're tanked. Let me take care of you tonight, baby. You've been so good to me. Just relax and trust me."

He filled the garden tub and slipped in with her on his lap and he bathed her and talked to her about nothing in particular, waiting for her to talk about whatever it was that was bothering her.

"Chuck, promise me you won't leave me until I finish talking, OK? Please?"

"I promise. Now, what's got you so bummed out? The doctor? Hey, it's probably nothing. You heard him. Don't worry about it now. We'll have our answer in 30 days when I retest."

"It's not that. I – I – I'm not who I said I am, I mean I am, but not before. I was someone else and – and…"

"Shhh, slow down. Who are you if not Karen Fisher?"


	15. Yours, Mine, Ours Until Death

Thelaststraw5L2

T/N: Bored. J's flight out of Santo Domingo DR has been delayed. The a/p down there is busy with Haitian relief and he was lucky to get a flight out at all. Here's another one. review it so he won't send me back. Nicole F

* * *

"I _am_ Karen Fisher – now. I used to be a horrible person, baby, a killer, an assassin. My name was Kara Duvall Palermo. I was known in the trade as…" He flashed on her file. She even looked different. And he saw her marriage and divorce. Well, that explained a lot. He saw it all. Especially her medical history.

"'Colonel Beckman's Dog'. So? That was then. This is now. You're Karen Fisher, bodyguard and companion and undercover lover. That's all I need to know, sweetheart. Now, let's get you dried off and in bed. I don't want to have to deal with your hangover in the morning, but I will."

"You knew? All this time you knew and never said anything?"

"Yep." A white lie. An omission. A mercy. "Let's get you out of the water. You'll shrink and you're short enough already."

As they lay in bed, entwined in each other, Chuck's mind raced through her files. He saw her missions, results, information on networks, her marriage, performance reports and evaluations, medical records, psych evals, her divorce filing and decree, everything that was Kara Duvall Palermo.

And it didn't matter. She made him happy and apparently he did the same so it didn't matter. Each day he thought less often of his blonde spy although he still tracked the occasional blonde walking through the lobby but, hey, he was a guy.

Chuck spent every morning working with his physical therapist and his personal trainer. The trainer was concerned about the weakness and unevenness of Chuck's grip and worked to strengthen those muscles while still exercising the remainder of the body. He was losing weight but picking up muscle strength and the entire effect was that soon he began to look like he was starving himself, which was far from the truth. "You're finally losing that layer of 'baby fat' that you've rebuilt via fast food and take out and as little exercise as possible, Chuck," explained his trainer who laughed and told him to run another mile in the sand on the beach.

Karen walked into their shower on their last day in Puerto Rico and was shocked at how 'thin' he'd gotten in just two short weeks. She'd never noticed how almost gaunt he appeared. Most of their nakedness together occurred in the dark. He was eating everything set before him but still it looked to her like he was sick. She immediately jumped to the conclusion that he had one of those blood diseases the doctor had described.

She ran to her bag and pulled out her digital camera and forwarded through their pictures. She saw a picture of Chuck taken the day after they arrived. He was shirtless on the beach. She loaded it onto her laptop. She continued until she came to one she took this morning before they went swimming. She was shocked at the change in just two weeks. She saved it to her laptop also. She sent an email to Beckman with the pictures attached.

"Beckman, secure."

"Fisher, secure. General, I'd like to return via FT Meade and have Chuck get an update on intel and a physical by your staff. Something's off. He's eating everything he sees but he's losing weight and I'm worried for his health. I've sent you an email with a picture taken 2 weeks ago and another this morning."

"Fine. I'll also arrange for him to review some special files while he's here. I'll issue the orders." She would have to decide about bringing her into the Intersect 'family' or not. The fewer people who knew, the tighter the security. Still, she was his 'companion'.

**FT Meade, MD  
NSA Headquarters**

They flew into Andrews from Puerto Rico and caught a shuttle chopper to FT Meade. Chuck's _conscious _experience with helicopters was limited to one landing and one almost take-off. Like every other new thing in his life, he was fascinated. Karen noticed his hands mimicking the pilot and giggled. "So, Chuck, you think you can fly one of these by copying his movements?"

"I have flown one of these. It was more than a year ago. This guy is very smooth and focused. I was like all over the sky."

They were met at the helipad by an agent who took Chuck straight to medical (and then to the intersect update section) and another who escorted Karen to the General's office.

She walked out thirty minutes later in shock. Her guy was a 'skin-covered computer' as one of the techs had explained it. She thought she'd heard everything but the Intersect Project was beyond her imagination. Her boyfriend was the intersect. Wow!  


* * *

The blood work was being processed on a priority rush and Chuck went on to the update session.

Karen was escorted through the security checks by one of Beckman's aides and shown into the intersect control room. "Are you ready, Chuck? This is a small one. Enjoy." He handed Karen a pair of dark glasses and waited until she had them on and then entered some commands into a computer and the lights went out and inside the chamber Chuck's body grew rigid as he absorbed the download. As usual, he passed out cold when it was finished. The techs weren't concerned since he'd done it before. His nose bled as usual. The update was traumatic and this was how his body dealt with it.

"Stop! What the hell are you doing to him?" She hadn't been prepared for what she was seeing. She was terrified.

"Agent, this is normal. Trust me, he's done this many times before. This is a small download, a refresher update, actually. He'll be fine."

"If he's harmed in any way, you're a dead man." Her tone was cold. Her intent, obvious.

It was over in 45 minutes. Medical techs ran his vitals, cleaned up the bleeding and transferred him to a gurney for the trip to the recovery room. It was all standard procedure but she followed every step of the way until he was lying on the bed in recovery.

"He'll sleep for probably an hour or two then he'll be fine. Just watch for excessive bleeding. The usual routine, Agent. Oh, and make sure Chuck eats a full evening meal. He looks like he could use it and it helps settle his mind for some reason."

'_So I'm not the only one who thinks he's losing weight?'_

They flew back to Andrews and then on to Burbank Executive Airpark , finally arriving at Karen's loft about 10pm. Karen had slept most of the flight leaving Chuck to doze and dream and veg out. She drove back to the loft and they unpacked and Karen showed him 'his' spaces.  


* * *

"Got it all planned out, huh, Shortie?" He was joking. He loved the idea of 'his' space in her life.

"Chuck, don't you want…"

"Yes, I want. I love the idea of 'my' space in 'your' life. Someday I want 'our' though, someday."

She started to cry and ran to the bathroom and locked the door.

"Karen, baby, what's wrong? I'm sorry if I'm going too fast for you. Please, babe, come out and let's talk this out. Don't shut me out. That's what she always did, shut me out."

The door unlocked but remained closed. He took this to mean he could go in.

"OK, what's with Niagara Falls, Karen? I'm sorry. Maybe I should go into the Castle and crash in one of the detention cells. Maybe you just need some 'Karen alone' time. It's OK, really. Ellie and Devon have these things and he goes to a frat brother's and crashes. Doesn't mean they don't love each other or care any more. It just means they need time apart."

"No. Don't want time apart. I want 'our', Chuck. That was the sweetest thing you said and I just am a ball of nerves, baby. First leukemia, then the damned download torture session and then you say something that's so sweet and it just makes me so mad at the world."

"Um, Karen, that doesn't make a hell of a lot of sense so you're not mad at me?"

"I'm mad about you, not at you. I'm sorry. I'm not handling all this stuff well at all and it's happening to you, baby, and I just feel like killing everyone involved in this who've hurt you. I know I'm not making any sense but I'm emotional, I'm scared and I don't want to be alone anymore."

He picked her up and dropped her on the bed like she was a sack of potatoes and flopped down beside her.

"OK, tomorrow we go and get my crap out of Ellie's apartment and we get 'our' started tomorrow. I want this so unless you're just blowing smoke up my ass, you do too, right?"

"Yeah, sweetie, I want it. Now, I want you to eat something. I saw how you pushed the in-flight meal around. It was nasty. How about scrambled eggs and bacon and coffee…and toast, yeah, I need to fatten you up, lover."

**Casa Bartowski  
****Burbank, CA**

Eleanor Bartowski cried as her little brother threw the last of his stuff into the pickup truck he'd rented for the trip over to Karen's. He'd practically filled the dumpster with junk he'd accumulated over the years and now felt he'd either outgrown or almost ashamed over. There was a large box marked simply "Morgan" and Ellie said she'd risk it and have him come over and pick it up.

"Oh, Chuck, this is so sad. I wish you two would just move in here but I understand. I'm so happy for you and I think she's the one, Chuck."

Chuck grimaced. Ellie's 'the One' – by definition a mythical character supposedly the 'other half' of one's soul, the soul mate. Nope. If his was out there, she'd either already found her other half or wasn't interested. He'd thought he'd found it with Walker but obviously she was Bryce's girl or Cole's when Bryce was off doing spy stuff. Karen was settling and so was he. Karma. Fate. Whatever. Maybe in his next incarnation… he laughed.

"OK, we'll see you Wednesday for dinner. Ellie, don't go all out. It's just us. Karen's fine with ordinary food and you make her feel inadequate with your skills vs hers. So make something ordinary – like meatloaf or something."

She'd better teach Karen how to cook some of Chuck's favorites. It looked like he could use a few good meals. He'd lost weight.

**Castle**

Karen went into the Castle while Chuck was unloading the truck and picked up a brace of pistols, shoulder holster and the intel dailies that had accumulated over the two weeks he was in recovery. She managed to avoid Casey and Walker entirely and that was the point of it. Avoiding Casey. Walker was a 'lesser issue'. She left a note detailing her theft including serial numbers and stock numbers and then left. She wanted him armed and dangerous whenever he was out alone.

**Unknown Location  
****One month later**

"You are certain these are the ones? These are the ones who destroyed my operation in Los Angeles? These four people did all that alone?" He was looking at a series of photographs of Team Intersect taken at various locations such as the Castle entrance, their apartments, their cars and other places.

"No, Hiroshi-san, those four people and a squad of NSA strikers. The large man is the leader. The blonde woman is his deputy. The skinny sick looking one is a technician who supervised mission communications and is also allied with the small woman. He was injured in the attack. They are an NSA action team, Hiroshi-san. A formidable foe. One of our men followed them back to their facility in Burbank after their attack. They were quite stupid and apparently never expected us to shadow them."

"We shall see. I have lost much face and honor among the Yakuza for my failures here. I must redeem myself and I will do so by humiliating and then killing these four. Plan your mission and bring me your final outline within the week. You have done well."

The sweating man bowed to his leader and left, glad for once he had not disappointed Ideyki Hiroshi. The man was insane and lived by the outdated honor code of Bushido. His way of punishing failure was forcing the person to commit suicide in the traditional manner or his family and property would be forfeit. Of course, the person could save their life by challenging him to a duel and defeating him. No one had ever bested him. He was a 21st century Samurai and a master swordsman.

**NSA Medical Facility  
****Los Angeles**

Chuck sat across from the hematologist who'd supervised his blood work. He was extremely nervous and for a doctor that was not a good sign. It probably meant bad news for Chuck and he was resigned to his fate. His life was just getting interesting. He'd met a beautiful woman who actually liked him for him and he had a job that was interesting and rewarding. And now this crap.

Things had gone from bad to worse when Karen and Chuck reported in for work after being gone two weeks, supposedly on vacation. Casey's greeting was cool and Walker was cordial with Karen but painfully professional around Chuck to the point of being insulting. Casey ignored Karen for the most part but occasionally Chuck would catch him gazing at her with a look of longing. The big guy was still in love with his ex-wife and that posed several problems for Chuck.

He'd known for some time that Casey's attitude change towards him had been directly proportional to the degree of involvement the new couple displayed. The trip to Puerto Rico had made the situation worse. Casey's 'cool' attitude became positively glacial after it became known that Chuck and Karen were living together outside the cover. As for Walker, she became distant and cold reminding him of Alex of 49B fame. Mechanical and unfeeling.

And now the damned doctor was hemming and hawing around about contaminated samples and protein inconsistencies, t-cell levels, and ketones and peptide linkages. He was a damned EE, not a doctor and he finally just asked the doctor outright: "Am I sick?"


	16. Final Arrangements and Final Solutions

Thelaststraw5M1v1

T/N: Counting the hours. Woo hoo. I'm bored so you guys get another read to chapter. Review, thoughtless readers. Save the trypist.

* * *

**NSA Medical Faciltiy  
Los Angeles, CA**

"We aren't sure what's wrong. Your weight loss continues and quite frankly we don't know what's going on with your blood. The protein levels continue to expand and your body's natural defenses aren't responding. Your white count is extremely high although your red count is near normal. We've ruled out leukemia, anemia and a host of other things. We just don't know what's causing it."

"So the fatigue, inability to concentrate and weight loss are not related?"

"Agent Bartowski, we don't know. I've sent samples of your blood to our best hematologists and we're waiting for their recommendations. Blood transfusions may help in the short term but we don't know how long that might be."

"OK, so I'm dying, and you don't know why. That about sum it up?"

"Yes. That about sums it up."

"OK. Now I need you to keep this between us. I have an important job to do. I need to be able to do it as long as I can. So, how long do I have?"

"We don't know. At the most, two months, probably less. We don't know what's wrong except it's destroying your immune system at an astonishing rate. With the transfusions, two months. Without them, less, a lot less, maybe weeks, maybe days. I'm sorry. A cold, pneumonia, a bad flu, an infected paper cut and your body will not be able to defend itself. You'll die. Pneumonia is the biggest threat you face in the short run. And you'll need to be admitted to the facility immediately if we're to prolong what time you do have."

Chuck could feel an almost uncontrollable rage building in him. Why now? Why not in 50 years? Why him? Why not any of those countless pieces of crap that he had to flash on everyday? He was only 28 and he'd met a woman…

"When can I start the transfusions. I have projects that need completed and I have a life to close out, people to take care of, two special people I need to prepare to say goodbye to."

"We can begin right now. General Beckman already knows. She's the one who wants you admitted immediately. Agent, these last few weeks, I'm sorry, you'll need to be here. Patients with auto-immune diseases require constant monitoring. We were unable to find a suitable match for a bone marrow transplant. That's the only procedure that works with auto-immune disorders. I'm sorry, Agent."

"Let's get this over with. I hate needles. And you can forget a hospital bed for a while. I have things to do. There is such a thing as quality of life. And no one better try and stop me."

**Karen's Loft**

"Do you want to talk about it, Chuck?"

"Karen, I'm really tired. I swear they took half my damned blood supply for their tests." When he'd come in later that afternoon she'd harried him with questions about his exam and 'what did the doctor say?' and immediately spotted the bandage on his arm. They'd inserted an IV port in his vein to enable transfusions without the constant inserting of needles.

"It's something they put in to take blood without constantly stabbing me with needles. You know how I hate needles, sweetheart."

He'd tried to talk to her several times, about things he wanted her to do, about talking to Casey, and about staying in touch with Ellie, but he just couldn't find the words.

"Chuck, you wouldn't lie to me about your illness, would you? I mean, if it's bad, sweetie, I want to be there for you. I love you, Chuck, and I dread being alone without you."

"Hush. I'm not going anywhere. Promise. Now, sleep. Big day tomorrow."

**Castle**

Chuck went to the strongest person he knew and explained his problem.

"Casey, got a second?" The others were off doing other things. He wasn't sure where and he didn't care. He needed this time to talk to John Casey.

"What do you want? I'm busy."

"I know you're busy, Casey, but I'm dying and I need your help closing out some things. And I need to know you'll be there for them when I'm gone. Please, John. For Karen, not me. And Sarah, although this probably won't be more than a ripple in her pond."

"You got your nerve. Dying? Bullshit. What are you really up to, Bartowski?"

Chuck was angry at the world and Casey caught the sharp tip of his ire.

"Up to? I'm down to 150 from 185 in 6 weeks, you fucking asswipe. I got some crap in my blood and it's killing me. It's just that simple. They don't know what it is but it's destroying my immune system and there are no matches for a marrow transplant so that's it for me. I need your help, John. One last time but I can see that me being dead is an advantage for you, Casey. No more Buy More, no more moron to shepherd. Forget it."

Casey really looked at Chuck for the first time in a while. He was pale under his tan and he'd lost a lot of weight. Maybe he _was_ sick.

"Fine. What do you want?"

"I need you to be there for Karen after I'm gone. That's all. Just don't be an asshole to her, Sugar Bear. She still loves you. Always will. Girl talks in her sleep. A lot. So, will you help me?"

"So why is she with you instead of me? And who told you about Sugar Bear?" Casey could feel the heat in his face, the anger in his heart for this moron who found his Kara so easy to take away from him.

"She's doing her damned job, Casey. She thinks she's dirty, John, filthy as Kara but clean as Karen. Figure it out. She was Beckman's Dog. You know why she divorced you? She got pregnant and lost the baby and couldn't have more. She hated herself for taking a child away from you. She wanted you to have a chance for children with someone who could have them. She sacrificed her happiness for you, Casey. Unlike me and Walker, your marriage to Kara was never 'for the cover', you idiot."

"Me? I'm just some dumb loser who caught a wonderful woman as a consolation prize on Beckman's version of 'Deal or No Deal'. She calls me Sugar Bear sometimes. Since I figured it out, well, she's been pissed I'm not performing but thinks it's the disease. I don't have the heart or the courage to tell her the truth."

"That – that was in the intersect?" He was appalled that others might read about his wife and her demons.

"I connect dots, John. It's what I'm good at, remember? Please, John, she's not in love with me. She just infatuated I think, but even if she were, it's not like the way she loves you. Please, don't punish her for wanting what she had but lost. I need you to do this for me, Casey, please? I can't let go if she's not going to be taken care of. She's afraid to be alone, John, so be with her. You're what she wants and needs; she's just too stubborn and ashamed to admit it and now she's stuck with me."

Casey saw the tears in his eyes and the facts struck home. He _was_ dying. Soon his friend would be gone.

Casey grabbed Chuck in a manly hug for about five seconds then stepped back. "Sure, Chuck. I'll do it for her. Um, I'm sorry, Chuck, really. And I've been an asshole and I'm sorry for that, too."

"Now, I've got some time but I'm not going to be much good after this week or next. I need you to keep this between us. I tell her I love her, John, but it's not like the way I love Walker. I don't need to say goodbye to Walker. She doesn't care. Bryce is still out there so she's still got a chance. Make sure she takes it. He and I talked in Puerto Rico but he's convinced it's too late."

"Spend time with Karen starting right now. She'll be upset and need you. She's fragile, John, so very fragile. After – after I'm gone, take her away some place warm and just love her, John." He spun on his heel and almost ran up the Castle stairs, passing Walker on the way. He figured if he could just slip into Karen's and get his stuff without seeing her, he would just report to the damned facility and be done with it.

"Well, I see someone got his feelings hurt again. What did you say to him that brought out the old Bartowski we used to know and love? I think the mark was on the verge of tears." Sarcasm was thick. She looked at Casey and saw his eyes glittering.

"Yeah, but the tears were for us, Walker, you and me and Karen."

"So, I take it there's trouble in paradise. What's wrong this time? His "companion" giving him a hard time already?"

"No. Karen's been quite happy with him. He's everything someone like Karen would want. He just doesn't know how to say goodbye, that's all. And he's worried about you and me, too. Imagine that."

"What do you mean, 'say goodbye'? Where's he going?"

"Your former mark, the moron, the idiot, the loser, the 'almost but not quite Bryce', the 'Anti-Cole', he's dying and he's worried about us, Walker. He figures you'll just accept it and move on to the next assignment. He said his passing won't be more than a 'ripple in her pond'. I can't imagine why, but he still loves you as much as before, maybe more, I don't know. He couldn't talk about it any more. That's when he left. He heard you on the stairs. Oh, he saw Larkin in Puerto Rico, remember? Guess what Chuck told him? He said you still loved him and not to give up on you. How's that for selflessness?"

He turned and walked up the stairs but had one more comment. "You should have told him, Sarah. Now it's too late. I don't think we'll see him again. It's not his way to be a burden, remember? And he's very sick now."

"Beckman, secure."

"Walker, secure. What is the medical status of the asset, General? He just left after telling Major Casey he was…he was dying."

"Auto-immune disorder. It was discovered in Puerto Rico and there's nothing that can be done except put him in isolation and try to make him as comfortable as possible for these next few weeks. No marrow match. Well, your reassignment orders will be forthcoming as soon as he…as soon as your presence is no longer necessary. Was there anything else, Agent Walker?" Beckman figured Walker would be counting the days. Her attitude had deteriorated since Bartowski had returned from Puerto Rico despite her warnings.

"No, ma'am. Thank you. I'll email you my resignation." She hung up.

She left the Castle and drove aimlessly for an hour until she found herself parking in front of Ellie and Devon's apartment. She needed to talk to Ellie about this. There had to be something they hadn't tried.

**Castle Bartowski**

She knocked at the door and a surprised Ellie answered. She took one look at Sarah's face and stepped back and pointed to the kitchen table.

She got right to the point and started with her broken cell phone and ended with Beckman's call and her resignation. It took almost a box of Kleenex and a pot of coffee but she managed to get it all out. Everything but the actual workings of the intersect. She even told her how she'd manipulated him and repeatedly denied her feelings for him. Even after he'd saved her life.

"Sarah calm down. What do you mean, 'no suitable match' for a marrow transplant? I'm his sister, God damn it, and no one asked me! Jesus, my little brother's dying and no one thought to tell me? Is it a state secret? Does no one care about Chuck at all?"

"Ellie, we all care. I care. I love your brother with all my heart but the job doesn't allow personal lives with people like Chuck and me."

"Is Karen a spy? Is anything real in his life? Does anyone really give a shit?"

"I care, Ellie. I need Chuck. I require him to live. I've cried myself to sleep every night since he hooked up with Karen. She works for the NSA and so does Chuck now. She's his bodyguard and companion. He's that important, Ellie. He can do such incredible things with his mind. But that's not important. If you're a match for Chuck, it could save his life. Please, Ellie, come with me and get tested. I don't know how it's done but it could save his life, Ellie. It could save my Chuck from a horrible death long before he should die. Please, Ellie, please."

The sincerity and intensity of her emotions had convinced Ellie that Sarah had been The One all along.

"Get your shit together, Walker. Take me to this secret facility and let's get him cured. And then, Sarah Walker, you and I are going to get drunk and you're going to tell me all about how my brother became a spy and captured the heart of my best friend."

It took six men to subdue John Casey as he walked from the Castle to his car. One of those later died and one other lost an eye. A stun gun was used repeatedly until he finally quit struggling.

Four men attacked Chuck and Karen in their apartment and, using stun guns, subdued them and transported them to the Tea Garden Pavilion.

Four men attacked Sarah Walker and Eleanor Bartowski and subdued them by threatening the life of Dr. Bartowski. Sarah was stunned repeatedly and her companion was stunned only once.


	17. Disillusioned, Dismembered and Dead

Thelaststraw5N.2

T/N: Lucky you guys. Review and 'Save the Trypist'. 9 hours woohoo Nicole. J has a Bokken in his closet. He says it's the equivalent of a 3rd world light saber. Ancient history from his days in L.A. GAIJIN means 'foreigner' in modern Japanese but it's like the N-word here. Translates as 'barbarian'.

**Tea Garden Pavilion  
****Los Angeles, CA**

Ideyki Hiroshi stood in the pavilion of the restaurant impatiently awaiting the arrival of his final guests for the evening's entertainment. He was looking forward to this and had even gone so far as to arrange a video taping of the evening's events. He would provide copies to the Yakuza chiefs in Japan and show that he was not one to be trifled with. The elimination of a NSA action team would restore his prestige and the method of elimination would restore his honor. Such was the way of Bushido.

The three agents had been gagged and secured with zip ties. Ellie was gagged and also secured with zip ties. Chuck wasn't gagged because they'd broken his nose subduing him and it wouldn't stop bleeding. Hiroshi-san had ordered him secured but not gagged. He didn't want the poor man to suffocate. He had other plans for him.

When all the 'guests' were sufficiently conscious and alert, Hiroshi-san introduced himself and began his rant and diatribe against them. He told them that they had caused him a great loss of face and that honor required that it be regained through the elimination of the team. Because they were 'warriors' of a sort, he would do them the great honor of allowing them to commit _seppuku_, ritual suicide, and he would end their suffering himself, as a show of honor and respect, by beheading them.

Chuck thought back to his days of madly pursuing Haylee Hayashida during his freshman year at Stanford. He even enrolled in a Kendo class to impress her. She dropped out of school, pregnant, and he continued on taking the class because he found it very enjoyable and centering. Bryce thought he was nuts but back then, they were all a little crazy. He racked his mind for rules, traditions and history of the Way of the Sword and of the Samurai tradition.

"I wish to speak, Ideyki Hiroshi-san. Cut these bonds for you know I pose no threat." The gang members looked to Hiroshi-san for guidance. He nodded, intrigued. He glanced over and made sure the cameras would catch this.

"Speak, _gaijin_, for you are to be first."

Chuck bowed from the waist, wobbling a bit but pulling it off.

"Nine hundred years ago the Samurai under Hideki Torashima fought for honor and their lords. They established Bushido. You know this. You also know that even _gaijin_ may issue a challenge to right a wrong. I issue such a challenge here and now."

"I will fight you for my family, those I love, these four people. If I win, they go free, if not, then nothing has been lost and you perhaps have a better show to offer the Yakuza in Yokohama and Tokyo. Unless you are _Eta_, in which case you will refuse my challenge because you have no honor to lose."

Chuck stood, staring stonily at the man wearing traditional Samurai garb and wearing the two swords. The man's face was flush and he was shaking with rage. Chuck's own Beast was howling for release. Suddenly he drew his katana and ran the 20 feet separating them, screaming his war cry and swinging his sharp blade in a furious Priest's Cut at Chuck's neck with the object of separating his head from the rest of him. His Beast howled in fury at being caged but Chuck simply stood and stared straight ahead as if bored and fascinated by the bricks in the wall.

Hiroshi's blade stopped after cutting into Chuck's neck to a depth of 2mm. He withdrew the blade and resheathed it, grunting in approval and addressing Chuck as an equal for the first time.

"Tell me who you are so that I might record your name in my List of Victories. I will grant your request and honor the terms if you should succeed. 'IF' you could succeed." He grunted and then unleashed a furious torrent of Japanese. Four of his gang members leaped to their feet, bowed and took Chuck away through a panel in the wall.

Twenty minutes later the panel was shoved aside and Chuck stepped through, dressed in traditional Samurai garb and wearing the katana, the symbol of the Samurai and a gauze bandage on the 4 inch cut in his neck. He walked to the center of the area and faced Hiroshi and bowed low as was befitting the challenger and then recited his heritage and his intentions. There were grunts of laughter from the gang members but Hiroshi silenced them with a glare.

He bowed to Chuck and then withdrew his katana and assumed the classic two-handed stance in preparation for attack. Chuck bowed and then withdrew his sword, still in the scabbard, from his sash and held it to his lips and bowed and straightened up and nodded once sharply. The fight was on.

Hiroshi screamed out his war cry and rushed at Chuck who repeated the actions of before. He stared ahead, bored, without a care in the world. Hiroshi raised his sword like an ax and stroked downward, planning on cutting deep into Chuck's torso and ending the fight but when the sword was 30 degrees into its downward arc, Chuck pivoted on his right heel and stepped back withdrawing the sword from the scabbard as he turned, snapping the blade upwards and blocking Hiroshi's stroke. Hiroshi jumped back with the peculiar flat-footed, crab-like steps that enabled a swordsman to always be centered, and grunted.

Chuck resheathed his katana and held it parallel to the ground, waiting. He did not want to expend any energy on attacking until he had the pattern of his opponent identified. He waited. He was tired. Not a good thing. And his nose was steadily trickling blood down his chin and onto the stark white of his kimono jacket.

Twice more Hiroshi attacked and each time Chuck waited until the last possible second before responding by blocking the sword cut. The second attack brought a furious response from Chuck who exploded though an advanced _kata_ and almost took Hiroshi's eye out with a flashing Saito slicing cut to the face. Hiroshi scuttled back to his starting position and fumed. This _gaijin_ should have been dead 10 minutes ago.

Chuck was thinking back to his hours practicing Kendo and watching the master exhibit techniques that were almost a thousand years old. One stroke in particular had always fascinated Chuck and he'd practiced it for hours and hours until he perfected it. It was called The Last Sunset Stroke but he'd forgotten the story that accompanied it. His master had simply called it a 'strike of last resort'. Well, it was his last resort now.

Chuck turned his back on Hiroshi and again assumed a bored stance but if Hiroshi had seen his face it, he might not have attacked as recklessly as before. Sarah had seen the look, right before he shot the Fulcrum agent who was holding his gun to her head. Casey had seen it when Walker had whispered in his ear at the ambulance but Karen had seen the face when she'd looked in the mirror the day she left John Casey.

Sarah Walker couldn't believe the transformation from Chuck the Bumbler to Chuck the Samurai Sword Wielder. What other 'Chucks' were hidden behind those brown eyes? How many other surprises would some lucky woman find in the course of their life together. She glanced over at Karen who was staring with rapt attention at her boyfriend, fear blanching her dark complexion.

Raising his sword in front of him, his arms straight, Chuck waited. Ideyki Hiroshi charged at his gaijin opponent, sure he was going to take the man's head. Raising his sword when he was just 5 feet away from Chuck's back, he again screamed his war cry but abruptly stopped when 2 feet of razor sharp steel pierced his belly and he staggered to keep from running further upon the sword that had suddenly been thrust backwards into him from under Chuck's arm.

Chuck pivoted around on his heel and leaned over and whispered in his ear. Hiroshi grunted and told his men to lay down their weapons and leave. When one did not comply he screamed at him to leave.

Chuck stepped back, withdrawing the sword from his opponent's belly with a cruel twist and waited. Hiroshi sank to his knees and bowed his head in defeat then raised it and looking defiantly straight ahead.

"Sarah, Karen, Ellie, bow down, with your faces against the floor. It is tradition." It wasn't. He didn't want them to see what he did next. He looked at Casey who nodded in acceptance of what had to be done.

He stepped behind Hiroshi and drew the katana back in the classic opening stance and swung forward, taking his head clean from his shoulders. Honor had been satisfied and his Beast returned to its cage. There was a muted scream from Sarah. She hadn't bowed. She had to watch, to see what he would do and hope it wasn't what she feared.

Chuck staggered over and cut John Casey loose with his bloody sword and then shuffled back to the body and picked up his opponent's sword and scabbard, thinking it would make a fine gift for General Beckman. Casey cut the women loose and they removed their gags and all began to speak at the same time. It sounded like pealing church bells to Chuck, and the ringing in his ears got louder and louder…


	18. Sarah Quits, Beckman Has Fits, Twisteds

Thelaststraw5O T/N: Twists? You guys crack me up. You should have to have a conversation with J. He's all over the place and when it's done, so are you. So, unless you want to see a headline like [UNO Doctoral Candidate Found Dead in Bayou Lafitte] do yo' thang. Save the Trypist. [yeah, I'm a Heroes addict]

**NSA Facility  
****Los Angeles, CA**

Chuck awoke slowly, very slowly, consciousness rising as through cold molasses. He saw blurred movement and tried to focus on it but the effort required was simply too great and he slipped back into the fog. A while later he heard sounds unrelated to those in his head and he tried to focus on them.

One was a low voice, a woman's, and he focused all his attention on it, turning his head to locate it when another voice sounded from beside him. The voices were unintelligible but pleasant and since he sensed no threat, he slept for minutes, hours or days, he wasn't sure and would never know.

Scenes paraded across his mind's eye. A man's face hidden in blonde hair, a terrified man trying to pull him out of a chair, a head rolling across a split bamboo floor, a beautiful laughing face with dark hair and eyes that slowly morphed into a tear-stained face with ice blue eyes and hair the color of summer sunshine. He tried to speak, to tell her not to cry but all that he heard himself say was 'dooooonnnn'. Even he didn't know what it meant. Pondering the meaning of 'dooooonnnn', he fell asleep.

"Chuck, please, Chuck, please wake up. I need to talk to you, please?" He heard the voice but couldn't focus on it. He blinked rapidly and tried to speak but his lips felt funny and his mouth tasted like…shit.

Someone lifted his head and put a straw in his mouth and he sucked shockingly cold water into his dry mouth and felt better.

"How do you feel, Chuck? Are you in any pain, baby?" He ached all over but still couldn't speak. His throat felt like someone had sandpapered it. He tried to form any sound at all but couldn't.

"Squeeze my hand if you're in pain, Chuck. I forgot how sore your throat must be from the ventilator. I'm sorry. All I seem to do is want you to do things that hurt you." He focused on bloodshot blue eyes and a face wreathed in sunlight.

"Sa…Sar…ah?"

"Yes, Chuck, it's me. I've missed you, Chuck. Now I know how you feel, how your heart ached every time I pushed you away and I'm so sorry for hurting you, baby, but I was afraid. You were right, all along. I did put my job first but I forgot that being an agent wasn't my job. My job was protecting you from harm and I did a shitty job of it. I hurt you more than any Fulcrum agent or crazy Japanese Yakuza ever did. I need you to forgive me, Chuck, please?"

Chuck tried to talk but couldn't. Sarah lifted his head and gave him more ice water. It would help his throat.

"Why? Why n-now? Why not before any of this had to happen. What is so wrong with me that you can't love me? Tell me so I can fix it. I need to know what's wrong with me, Sarah, that no one seems to be able to love me? Am I so terrible a person? Even though it's too late I don't want to die without knowing. Please…" He started to sob and gasp for breath and Sarah fumbled for something hanging from the bed rail and he felt the cold flow into his veins and then felt nothing.

Sarah wiped the tears from her face with the backs of her hands and left his room. She hadn't been able to tell him. He'd gotten too upset and that was one thing he couldn't be allowed to do, not in his condition. She sighed and walked down the hall to Ellie's room and went in and sat beside her on her bed.

"I take it from the long face you didn't tell him, did you. Why not, Sarah?"

"He wouldn't let me finish. He started asking me what was wrong with him that no one could love him and how could he fix it. He started getting upset and crying so I dosed him, again. Ellie, every time we try and talk he gets caught up in some delusion and gets upset. You know he can't be stressed right now, it could set him back in his recovery."

"You'll just have to keep trying. You know it's the drugs that're driving him right now. You just have to keep trying. Now, I've been officially discharged and I need a ride home. Come on. Drive me home. You've been here 8 days without a real break, Sarah, and you can't get sick too. I'll order a pizza and we'll just talk and if you fall asleep, you fall asleep. He's going to sleep for at least six hours and Casey promised to look in on him. No back talk, let's roll."

Casey walked into the room carrying a flower arrangement. It was not his idea. Beckman had sent it. She'd spoken with either him or Walker twice daily in the first days but now it had tapered off to once a day since the transplant seemed to be working. He was still not out of the woods but he was no longer circling the drain.

**9 Days Earlier**

Chuck had folded in on himself after beheading Hiroshi and cutting Casey loose to free the others. Casey had searched through the rooms of the Pavilion until he found a land line phone and had called the NSA center to send a squad, cleaners and an ambulance. That had been the longest 20 minutes of his life.

Ellie was doing chest massage and Karen and Sarah were alternating on doing the 'P' of CPR on Chuck. Ellie was cursing the delays in getting the ambulance to them so Casey ran out through the gardens to the gate to flag down the ambulance. One of the paramedics took over and started bagging him while the other relieved Ellie. The ride to the NSA Facility took another 20 minutes and Casey learned that Ellie Bartowski had a vocabulary of curses that would have made many a sailor blush.

Sarah refused to leave Chuck's side once they were in the elevator and Casey had to physically restrain her when they took him into the sterile exam room and barred her as 'contaminated'. Ellie took her by the hand and led her down to a waiting room and began explaining what was happening and what would probably happen later

A surgeon came out and took Ellie to another examination room and took an aspirated sample of marrow for testing.

Three hours later the lab confirmed a donor match between Charles Carmichael and Eleanor Bartowski. Ellie was prepped for surgery and then all progress halted as they waited for Chuck's condition to improve sufficiently to allow an adequate survival margin for the bone marrow transplant patient.

**5 Days Earlier**

Tests showed the marrow was being integrated without rejection into Chuck's system. Already the white blood cell count was stabilizing and healthy cells were being produced again.

**Current**

"Bartowski, that was a gutsy thing you did back there at the Pavilion. I thought you were nuts or just wanting to get it over with when you challenged the nut to a sword fight. A sword fight, for God's sake. This is the 21st century for Christ's sake not the 12th. Well, you kicked his ass and took his head, Chuck. I gotta tell ya, Walker about shit when you chopped him. I don't think she took her eyes off you more than 30 seconds since then as long as you're both in the same room. I thought she and Karen were going to go to it over who got to sit with you. Sarah resolved it for her. Said 'he's mine!' and that was that."

"Um, Chuck, about Karen. I took your advice, man. We're taking it slow but, man, I can't let her be your companion any longer. I'd end up killing you out of jealousy. She loves you, man, but she knows it's not like we once had but we're working on it. We had what you and Walker have, so, hands off my woman, Chuck. I told Beckman and she's scrounging around for a replacement from the local NSA ranks who won't need training."

"I sent Beckman Hiroshi's sword like you told me. She has it on display on her credenza behind her desk. It's like a shrine. You made a smooth move there. I kept the sword you used for you. It's in the Castle armory. Just don't plan on taking on any ops, Bartowski. It's not practical in this century."

"Now, Bartowski, since all you can do right now is hear, hear this. Walker resigned from the Agency. She's free and she plans on hanging around waiting for you to get your head out of your ass and start dating or mating or getting married or whatever you guys decide."

"Give her a chance. That thing with Larkin was over a long time ago, within seconds of meeting you, I think. And Cole? Shit, Cole couldn't hold a candle to you. He's a limey pussy compared to Bartowski-san the Samurai Spy. So don't be an asshole, Chuck. Give her a chance, man. You won't be sorry."

He had no idea if he was getting through to him on some unconscious level or whether he was just heating up the room with hot air. Still, he owed the moron for all he'd done for Karen and for him. In an odd way, he felt closer to Chuck than his own distant and dysfunctional family.

One of the things that was on his mind was Beckman's response to the copy of the CCTV tape Hiroshi had running that Casey had digitized then downloaded and emailed to the general. He expected her to come unglued and start muttering about deep holes in the desert. Instead, she called Casey and asked him to make another copy for Chuck but to mail her all the originals. She wanted her technicians to enlarge certain frames for her. She said she'd send Casey copies of the extracts when they were done. He had no idea why she wanted them.

**Casa Bartowski  
****Burbank, CA**

Sarah had moved temporarily into Chuck's empty room because the hotel was for active agents only. She was waiting for the order to turn in her beloved Porsche. For now, she was glad some gnome in the Ex-Agents Office was being a good government employee and screwing off to the max.

Ellie had insisted that she move in. She said with Devon working opposite shifts she was lonely and with Chuck's illness, it was foolish not to since they'd spend most of their time at the facility anyway.

She opened her purse and took out the computer disk that Casey had given her saying only that 'it was for Chuck per General Beckman'. Intrigued, she went to Ellie and asked to borrow her laptop so she could look at a CD Casey had given her for Chuck.

Ellie stood behind her and watched over her shoulder. The images were grainy at first, but the focus sharpened as someone adjusted the camera.

It was like watching one of those old black and white Japanese movies that Bryce was so enamored of. Suddenly she sat upright as she remembered something Bryce had told her about a roommate at Stanford and how he was a real horn dog. He'd been after a Japanese-American hottie and even signed up for a class in Kendo because she was in it. Things didn't work out with the girl but his roommate had loved the class and even competed in Kendo tournaments, finally advancing to rank status.

That son of a bitch played Hiroshi. He knew exactly what he was doing. That bumbling, frightened attitude was just to lull him into a false sense of security while Chuck waited like a wild beast for his prey to enter his trap. She remembered being thrilled at the attack Chuck launched against his opponent. His sword flashing and the clash of the blades was thrilling to watch. And his final move was…tactically brilliant but damned frightening to watch.

She told Ellie about it and she started laughing. Chuck had told her that his metal-capped bamboo _bokken_ was a poor man's light saber and she'd believed him. She would wring his neck for lying to her – after she hugged him for a week or two.

When they got to the part about Chuck's last move she reached to stop the play back. She didn't want Ellie to see what Chuck did. Too late.

Ellie gasped and then ran to the bathroom and vomited.

Sarah felt sick not because of the decapitation but because of the look on Chuck's face captured by the camera but hidden from two agents and Ellie. He'd transformed from the bumbling nerd she so loved into a hardened killer who smiled with joy when he took Hiroshi's head off his shoulders. There were many Chuck Bartowskis behind those brown eyes and this one was dangerous.

General Beckman recalled Sarah to Washington. Her resignation had been refused. She had to honor her contract. Since she had proven to be a valuable agent, even if she tended to be more invested in her asset than was either required or professional, her performance had been…acceptable.

Chuck slept less and less and if he noticed that Agent Walker was no longer a fixture at his bedside he said nothing about it to anyone.


	19. The Team Bails and Chuck Gets Wheels

Thelaststraw5P - This is the last update. Ya'll gonna have to wait for His Twistedness to return. I'll look for others but I'm hoping I won't have time. Remember: SAVE THE TRYPIST & REVIEW THIS

* * *

This morning when he'd been wakened by a nurse for his bath and breakfast he was delighted to find that Karen was sitting with him. She found something to do while the nurse gave Chuck his sponge bath, and she was back within minutes of its completion.

"Beckman says she will send you intel dailies to keep you from getting bored. Um…I…Johnny moved in with me, sweetie. Oh hell, that was just not right. I'm living with my ex-husband, John Casey, Chuck. We were married and I …"

"Please, just go. I – I told Casey you still loved him. You slipped up a few times, Karen, and I should have called you on it then but I was selfish and I didn't want to be alone. I'm sorry. I should never have allowed you to get close. It was a mistake. You'd think I'd learn from my mistakes but I don't. Please, no tears, just go and be as happy as you can be. Just don't tell Casey all we did…I'd like to see how long a life I have left naturally."

She gave him a fierce hug and started crying and he just told her to go find Casey and live a little. He didn't need a bodyguard while he was in the facility and Beckman would reassign her to other duties.

Chuck pulled out his laptop that Casey had dropped off and pulled up the NSA intranet, keyed in his username and password and downloaded the dailies that General Beckman had so 'thoughtfully' sent to ensure he wasn't bored.

He stopped. Why should he do a damned thing for these people. He was a virtual prisoner of the intersect and now this damned 'medical facility'. He closed the laptop and got carefully out of bed and walked to the foot of the bed. He raised the laptop above his head and smashed it down onto the metal frame of the bed again and again until nothing remained but pieces, just like his heart.

He hit the call button and informed the startled nurse that he dropped the laptop and would she get someone to clean up the mess.

After a delicious dinner of broth and almost cold coffee a woman wandered in wearing a lab coat and glasses and proceeded to take his blood, measure his various 'outputs' and discuss his medical future. He could get out of bed and start PT after the doctor read his tests. He'd do almost anything to get rid of the various wires and tubes.

"How long do you think I'll have to stay in this facility? I have a home in Burbank, you know?"

"Don't have a clue. All I know is that your PT starts tomorrow after the doctors removes all this clutter so you don't fall and break something. Honestly, you agents think you can bounce back from Death's Door in mere minutes. You'll be lucky to be strong enough to sit up straight in a wheel chair for more than a few minutes."

She left on that positive note and with no TV or other distractions he went to sleep. It seemed to be the only peace he had any more.

Dressed in scrubs and hospital slippers, Chuck walked down the hallway to the floor's only window and leaned against the frame just looking out. He had a beautiful view of downtown Los Angeles and it made him want to get out and just enjoy the sunshine. He definitely was bored and had cabin fever. He'd amazed his PT therapist and after 3 mornings of work she'd declared him 'physically able to leave' as long as he was staying with someone or was not living alone.

He talked to Ellie everyday and she finally broached the subject of him coming home and did that mean Casa Bartowski or what? She'd have to make some changes if he wanted his old room back. He hadn't given it any thought at all. He just assumed…

"Um, you know what, Ellie, I think I'll find me a government approved apartment and just try and live like a real person on my own. I don't think I could be comfortable in my old room. I don't mean I don't miss you and Devon but I just don't fit in there anymore. I'll see about an apartment."

He called Casey who referred him to the 'Housing Officer' on the floor below the Medical Facility. The 'Housing Officer' turned out to be a pretty 20-something NSA employee who had a listing of approved, meaning safe and NSA managed, apartments, all within a few miles of the Castle facility. She even offered to take him around and help him make his choices but agreed to be his proxy and handle the rental stuff.

That brought another thought to mind. Transportation. He had $6,400 in the bank and he'd pulled his 401K out of the Buy More so he figured he could afford a decent set of wheels. And he knew just where to find them.

Three days later he was given his walking papers. His cell counts were within the acceptable range and he would be released the following afternoon assuming he had transportation and living quarters. He lied and said he was staying with his sister and that got him a big smile. Ellie was known as 'the little bitchy doctor/donor' in the facility. Well, doctors do make the worst patients. He thanked Dr. Montrose for saving his worthless hide, took the thick packet of prescriptions he'd scrawled and then almost skipped down the hall.

"Hey, Ellie, can you find me some clothes and pick me up, please. They're letting me go and I can't leave wearing what I came in." A blood-stained samurai outfit would bring unwanted attention.

"All ready? Are you sure, Chuck? You should be in a reasonably secure environment, health wise. You shouldn't be exposed to the normal dangers we all face without your immune system being at a normal level. Let me talk to that quack, Montrose. There must be a mistake. You should be in the hospital for at least 3 weeks _after_ your cell levels stabilize. You may be a super-duper-spy but you're still human." They both heard the unspoken '_and my little brother'_.

"Ellie, never mind. I'll find something to wear. I have a full afternoon doing real-life stuff anyway. Don't sweat it. It won't be a big deal to grab a cab and I'll see ya tomorrow."

"But Chuck…" dial tone. Damn her brother. He was the most stubborn idiot she'd ever known.

He called the only other person he knew who had access to his clothes. "Karen, Chuck. I need a favor, old lady. Can you bring me some clothes? And my cell phone, if you have it? I can't walk around here all day in scrubs and besides, I'm doing intel reviews and using the big box down in Analysis. I don't make a very good first impression on possible dates looking like the janitor."

She promised to pack him a bag and she'd be there in an hour.

Seeing Karen again proved awkward. She greeted him with a hug and he'd almost kissed her. Things had changed and she was now firmly in the 'friends' column. She sensed his discomfort and sighed.

"Chuck, I'm sorry. It has to be this way. Beckman is adamant. You stay here until you're totally fit and that's it. Just enjoy the down time. It's not Puerto Rico, sweetie, but you're alive and getting healthier by the day. Just a few weeks and you can come in to the Castle and pick up right where you left off."

Something in her tone was off. Something caused the hair on his neck to stand up. He looked at her closely and noticed the pupil dilation and the tightening of her lips. She was lying about something.

"Fine. Just give me my bag and you're free of any further obligation to me. Tell Casey I said hello and I'll see you guys whenever." He turned and walked away from her running things over in his mind. Walker gone. Casey distant and now Karen acting weird. Was he just being paranoid or was there more to this than there appeared to be?

The pharmacist's assistant was running two separate projects for her boss and scarcely paid any attention to Chuck when he gave her his prescriptions. She'd already been put on probation for 'losing' medications and she knew if she bungled another script she was on the street. Hurrying and looking at the clock, she made a mistake. Not a big one, really. The NSA used psychotropic drugs all the time. And Dr. Montrose was the prescribing physician so she didn't report the prescribing of restricted and dangerous drugs as she should have. It was a check and balance and she put the system out of whack by not following procedure. She filled the prescriptions and gave Chuck a huge smile and entered the drug, quantity and patient into the database and then went back to her counting.

Karen took the elevator down to the lobby and breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't asked her the obvious question: Where was Sarah Walker? That was good because she didn't have a ready answer that would pass muster with someone as bright and curious as Chuck. He was obviously a little upset about something, probably being stuck in the Facility for another three weeks. She'd talk to Johnny that evening and maybe they'd go in and visit in a few days once things settled down. He was probably bored. And he'd been so uncomfortable when she hugged him. So had she.

Chuck was on his way to downtown LA to see a friend about a ride. He hailed a cab and gave him the address of his bank in Burbank. After pulling out all his money and closing his accounts he hailed another cab.

The cabbie asked him twice if he had the right address. He was Latino and knew that Anglos were not exactly welcome in that neighborhood.

"Yeah. Duarte and I go way back. I need to see about some transportation."

The cabbie grinned. Estevan Duarte was well known in East L.A. as the man to see if you needed wheels or if you had hot wheels to get rid of. He operated a legitimate body shop that doubled as a chop shop. This Anglo was more than just a fare.

He got out a block from the shop and gave the cabbie a C-note tip to forget the fare and walked down to Duarte's shop. He waited patiently until someone came up to him and asked what business he had with Duarte because he was busy elsewhere.

"Tell him his daughter's teacher is here. Carlos. He'll take the time to see me."

Estevan Duarte was a large man of 50 who carried his weight well. He was a criminal but an honest one, meaning he never stole money he hadn't earned, never cheated a customer and always kept his word. Chuck was counting on that. He needed his help to escape.

Chuck explained that he'd hacked a government database and was on the run. He needed reliable wheels and any documentation he could get to become 'someone else'.

"For you, Carlito, for sure. I owe you for my daughter, Carlito, always."

Two hours later Charles Jefferson was the legal owner of a deep blue 2006 Mustang GT with some interesting modifications that would pass any routine check unless they were looking for explosives. He also had a passport, drivers license, a clean social security number, credit cards with zero balances and hefty credit limits and the usual wallet stuffers that documented his existence. Chuck didn't ask about any of it. He trusted Duarte. They shared an obligation.

"Carlito, here are some names and locations of people you can trust. I will tell them you are under my protection and I would consider it a favor if they would provide you with assistance. My daughter is happy, safe and out of the drug world thanks to you. She will start medical school this fall. My little Maria is going to be a doctor! This is nothing, Carlito, compared to what I owe you."

Chuck started the big-block Ford and drove to the partially-furnished one bedroom apartment he'd rented under the name Charles Carmichael. The sweet young thing had been most helpful in handling things for him. She knew he was an 'operative' who'd been in the medical facility. Gossip and the fact that he wore scrubs his first visit and carried an aura of sadness simply added to his 'legend'. He'd have to stop somewhere and buy linens for the bed. And towels. Shit, and a lot of other stuff he'd taken for granted at Casa Bartowski.

Casey finally caved and agreed to go see Chuck. He whined that he'd already made one trip to see him and he'd slept through it. He also was concerned that he'd ask him the one question he couldn't answer honestly. 'Where was Sarah Walker?'

"Johnny, if he didn't ask me, he surely isn't going to ask you. Trust me, Casey. He's still trying to wrap his head around the situation between you and me. He was really uncomfortable when I was there, like he didn't know how to act. It was heartbreaking, Johnny. He deserves to be treated better and you know it. Keeping him in that place for three weeks is heartless and unnecessary."

"It's for his own good. He was banging at Death's Door a short time ago, remember? He's not as well as everyone seems to think. And he's got access to the database, he can always chat with one of your cuties and maybe get a date set up for when they spring him."

"Damn it, John Casey, you know damned well Sarah's just waiting to talk to him when he isn't drugged up. Here's the perfect opportunity. He's stuck there and she gets back in a few days. Honestly, you think she's going to let him just slip away? She's gone on my boy."

"Your boy, huh? Do I have to worry about your and him when I'm on a mission?"

"No, baby. He's my friend, my dearest friend. What he and I had was only a beginning, you know that. Now, put the green-eyed monster back where it belongs. We'll never move forward to where we were if you're stuck on 'stupid'. And we owe it to him that we're back together. We'd never have done it on our own."

"Women!"


	20. On the Road Again

ThelaststrawR2 Sorry for the mistake. I am not as proficient in this as some. Here's another. Not my idea of how i was going to spend Friday night... Save the Trypist ... from boredom.  


* * *

Sarah took her phone and walked upstairs into the closed Orange Orange. She called Chuck again and again it went to voice mail. She didn't leave a message. She planned on calling every 10 minutes until either he answered or…she didn't know what she'd do then.

Chuck saw that he had two messages in his voice mail. He'd gotten off the interstate and filled up his tank and was just sitting in a McDonald's parking lot drinking a cup of coffee and looking at a map. He still had to buy some crap at Wal-Mart. He had a 'first day objective' and he'd be there in 4 hours.

"He's just sitting at McDonald's. We should take him now."

"Too many witnesses. Wait until he's back on the interstate. We'll box him and then we'll have him. Remember, no injuries. He's got no immune system to speak of and the drugs our mole prescribed will make him paranoid and violent as hell. Trank him. We've only got a few more hours until he crashes and it won't be a pretty sight. Especially not if he's pushing that steel beast of his at 80mph like earlier. And that means no money, got it, fools?"

"Who is this guy and why's he so damned valuable? He some kind of computer wizard?"

"Yeah, something like that. He's a million dollar baby for each of us. All we have to do is take him in and collect our reward. Fulcrum will pay cash money upon delivery. It's not our business why, just how much."

"We should have snatched him in L.A. He was a sitting duck until he got the damned car."

Chuck debated doing it, listening to her message on his voice mail. He was afraid of what he'd hear. Afraid she'd tell him what he so desperately wanted to hear all those months but now he knew it would just be another damned lie, a trick to get him in a place where he'd be easy prey for her partners. His Beast growled, unsettled and impatient.

He accessed his voicemail and hung up when he heard her voice say _"Chuck, it's Sarah. I need you to listen to me very carefully…"_ He exited and went to the 2nd voicemail. He didn't need anymore of her 'directives'. Stay in the van, quit fidgeting, quit sighing, quit living…

The second voicemail was different. He could hear the need and longing in her voice. She'd been the one he trusted, depended on, knew the most about and still she betrayed him. It was her job. She was Beckman's Dog. She was back with Casey, Beckman's _other_ dog.

He listened, knowing it was all a lie. _"Chuck, baby, it's Karen. I need your help, sweetie. I need you to please call me back. It's urgent, Chuck. Remember what I told you. We can fall off the grid if necessary."_

There were 7 more calls from Sarah's cell phone but no further voice mails. Screw them. He looked at the time and then started his car and drove slowly out of McDonald's parking lot and over to Wal-Mart.

"He's moving. Target is moving. Unit 1 is in trail. Looks like he's headed for Wally World. Unit 2 move to Wal-Mart. Unit 3 hold position until we see what he's up to."

The 'Unit 2' man was both greedy and impatient. The mark was just coming out of Wal-Mart and was unlocking his car. Screw waiting.

Chuck was unlocking his car when a dark colored van pulled up behind him and the door was slid open forcibly and he heard "Don't move, Mr. Bartowski. Come with us and you won't be hurt."

He pulled open his door and put his two plastic bags on the passenger seat and reached down on the floor for his katana and released the scabbard and sliced out, across and down at the man he saw reflected in his tinted window – the man holding the trank gun.

The man screamed, holding the stump of his wrist as it spurted arterial blood. His hand was still holding the trank pistol but now lay on the asphalt. The driver of the van shouted something into a comm. unit and reached for a pistol under his suit coat.

Chuck's Beast was unleashed, craving more. He almost jumped into the van to kill the driver but something stopped him. Instead, Chuck jumped in the Mustang and peeled out, leaving one man unconscious and soon dead in the parking lot.

"Damn it, Unit 2, I said wait! Follow him. We'll nail him on the interstate. Damn. Was that a sword he used on Mueller?"

Sarah called again. Excited and not concentrating, he answered the phone.

"Chuck, it's Sar…" He cut her off.

"Your boys in the Wal-Mart parking lot missed, Walker. The one who tried to trank me is minus a hand now. Leave me alone. I won't go quietly. I don't want to hurt anyone but I will if I have to. Call off the dogs and leave me the hell alone!"

He hung up and threw the cell onto the passenger seat. He was shaking as the adrenalin passed through his system. And he was tired. He needed to find a place to hole up. He'd never make his first-day objective as tired as he was.

"Casey, someone just tried to trank him in a Wal-Mart parking lot. He said the guy is 'minus a hand now'. Someone's trying to snatch him, Casey. He's on the run from us and someone is trying to grab him and he thinks it's us."

"I'll alert NSA to monitor for any police reports. We'll have a location inside of 10 minutes." He called Beckman with the latest update, the Wal-Mart incident.

"I assure you, Major, it was not one of ours. I want Chuck back and I don't care what it takes. Pull out all the stops. You have a blank check on this. Montrose was obviously a Fulcrum mole and I have a team tearing that hospital facility apart. Every employee has been or will be interrogated using whatever means necessary to find out everything that's been done to him."

Sarah's cell rang with an unknown number and she turned away from the screen for privacy.

"Hello?"

"Why now, Walker. Why not last year or 6 months ago, or even last month? Why wait until now to tell me all that crap. Are you getting pressure from the top to close out this operation? Close out Team Bartowski and move on?" He'd listened to her voice mail. He had to listen to it 3 times to understand what she was saying through her tears.

Sarah gestured to Casey and showed him the calling number on her display. She mouthed, "Chuck" and he went over to a computer and began typing in numbers.

"I was afraid. I'd never felt this way before. I – I didn't know what to do or how to handle you. They never taught us about guys like you, guys who care, who give a damn, who aren't afraid to be open and loving. They never taught me how to deal with the guy who killed for me, who covered me because he knew I was embarrassed, who could be hurt so badly by someone who loved him but couldn't tell him. I could never love anyone else the way I love you. And yeah, tremendous pressure to bring you back. Beckman's frantic with worry, Chuck. I think she has the hots for you but you're mine, not Karen's and certainly not that withered old hag's. Please, Chuck, I love you, really, really love you. The 'until death do us part' love. Tell where you are, sweetheart and we'll be there to bring you back in no time at all."

"Ma'am, we've gotten a partial fix on him from a cell call with Walker. He's north of L.A. heading towards Frisco. He had us looking south while he did a head feint and scooted north. Obviously the snatch team has had him under surveillance for a while. I wonder why they didn't take him here in L.A.? Why give him time to… unless they know something about him, something that would give them an edge. Find out what medications he was prescribed. Maybe there's a clue there."

"I'll alert the hospital team. Meanwhile see if Walker can keep him on the phone long enough for us to get a better fix. Keep me advised."

"No… never mind. I'm sorry. You're playing me. I read the order and it was easy enough to understand."

"No, damn it, Chuck. You read the final instructions for the disposition of the _Castle_. That's what it meant. It was just all written up in government bullshit. You work for NSA, Chuck. There's no reason to keep the Castle open. We're all going to work out of NSA Los Angeles. Oh, Chuck, it's going to be so much better. I'm your bodyguard and that means 24/7 Chuck and Sarah. And no restrictions on a relationship. You just can't cruise the NSA chat rooms anymore. I won't have it."

"Sarah…so tired of all the lies and bullshit." She teared up at the sound of his voice, so lonely, desperate and tired. It was the voice she'd heard when he begged her to tell him why she couldn't love him during one of his lucid periods in the hospital.

"Baby, I don't blame you for what you did. I'd have done the same damned thing in your position. You're alone, no backup, and no hope. I understand that. I do. But please, baby, please, don't do anything rash that'll get you hurt. If you die, I die. I won't live 10 minutes after you die. I mean it, Chuck. I'll kill myself the second I get word you're dead. Believe it because it's true. These last days have been agony for me. I won't live the rest of my life feeling alone like this. I won't, damn you to hell, Chuck Bartowski." She hung up. She was just making things worse.

Casey reached across and held her hand. "It won't come to that, partner, I promise you."

Chuck didn't believe Walker when she said she'd kill herself. She was just doing her job. But he did believe that she loved him and that was enough. She'd compartmentalize 'Chuck Bartowski', and like a buildup of impurities in a kidney, thick layers of denial would envelope it and protect the organ. And then she'd move on to her next assignment. Real spies could do that and she was definitely a real spy.

Chuck had a more pressing problem. A retrieval squad was on his trail and he didn't know who they were retrieving for. The Beast paced restlessly and Chuck's heart rate began to climb as he considered first one then another option, discarding almost all as zero-sum options. If he sat still, he was a sitting duck. That left movement as his only option and he still had an objective to reach – one of Duarte's contacts and hopefully a safe place to hole up for the night.

He pulled out onto the interstate that $6/gallon gas prices had made almost empty except for commercial and long haul trucks. It would make spotting a tail easier and give him maneuvering room if required.

He was 90 miles south of his objective, Parks City, when he spotted the retrieval team's 3 vehicles closing fast on his tail. At 60mph, he was fast being overtaken. Time to implement the plan he'd worked out.

He slowed to 55mph as if taking the Calderton exit. He even used his turn signal to be certain they saw his exit.

"Units 2 and 3, he's taking the off ramp. Follow him. We'll continue on north in case he gets right back on, checking for a tail. If he doesn't, we'll get off at the next exit and backtrack. If he does, we'll slow him down until you can catch up and box him."

Chuck drove down the exit, stopped at the stop sign and then crossed over the median and drove up the on-ramp to the interstate.

"1 this is 3, he made us. He got off and crossed over and reentered the interstate."

"I have him. We'll slow him down. Units 2 and 3, catch up with us and then box him."

Chuck watched in his rear view mirror as two vehicles, a van like the one at Wal-Mart and a Chevy Suburban had exited behind him and were stuck at the light. He chuckled and then sped up to 65mph.

**Castle**

Beckman had tasked a satellite to cover the search area. NSA had monitored a call from the police in Sierra Vista about a man with a strange handgun and severed hand bleeding in the Wal-Mart parking lot. The team drove to John Wayne Airport and boarded a UH-1E helicopter for the flight to Sierra Vista. The 90-minute flight would put them in the area by 3pm.


	21. Chuck Liberates the Chickens

Thelaststraw5s2 T/N: sorry for the error. Not my thing. I hate airlines and earthquakes and do-gooders. enjoy, selfish and happy nags. You should be out on a date not reading this crap. Nicole

**Northbound Interstate**

Chuck was overtaking another Suburban and pulled out to pass it but it pulled over into his lane and maintained a constant speed. He changed lanes again, planning on passing it on the right when it pulled over in front of him and slowed down. This must be the lead vehicle of the snatch team.

Chuck had 3 options. The first was the status quo and he vetoed that since he knew the other two would be fast coming up on him with the intention of boxing his Mustang in and forcing him to the side of the road.

The second option was to pass the Suburban somehow and accelerate until he was well ahead of it but that would just put them in his rear.

The third option was to break the box while eliminating one of the vehicles. Thanks to some of Duarte's 'enhancements', he had a plan and a weapon.

He changed lanes as if trying to pass the lead vehicle to give the others time to catch up. The leader slowed to 60 then 55mph. The second vehicle, a Suburban, pulled up beside him and maintained position while the van pulled up and trailed by a car length. Chuck sped up and tapped the Suburban's bumper while reaching down between his legs and pulling up sharply on a D-ring that hung from a wire.

Duarte was a history buff and one of his fascinations was Rome and its Legions. One thing he always wondered about was the lack of cavalry until the 5th century. The answer lay in Caltrops – metal constructs consisting of 5 lengths of wrought iron sharpened on both ends and joined at the center like a modern-day child's set of jax. No matter how they dropped, they always ended up with the sharp end up, perfect for piecing the hoof and frog of a horse and Romans always seeded the battlefield with them since they pierced barbarian feet just as easily.

Advance 16 centuries, substitute cars for horses and tires for hooves and voila, the modern stainless steel caltrop.

And there were 100 of them in an aluminum box strapped to the underside of the Mustang. The D-ring pulled on a wire that opened the box and spilled the caltrops across a roadway. Instant blown tires.

The van driver saw something shiny on the road surface but was too slow to react before three of his tires blew out and sent the van first into the guard rail on the right and then, as he over corrected, across two lanes into the drainage swale that formed the greensward between the sets of lanes where it flipped over in the grass.

Chuck stood on the brakes and the big Mustang slowed and he drove across a maintenance cross-over and turned south down the interstate toward Los Angeles.

He accelerated through 60, then 70 and settled in at 80mph. He still had two vehicles in pursuit but had broken the box trap.

"Unit 3 is out of the running. Unit 2, run him off the road. The gloves are off. Smash him against the guard rail and hold him until we catch up."

The Suburban raced after the Mustang pulling within 4 or 5 car lengths when Chuck topped a hill and saw the cobalt blue flashing lights of a California Highway Patrol vehicle with an 18-wheeler hauling a flatbed pulled over to the side a few hundred yards ahead. He smiled and pressed his foot down on the gas pedal and pulled the 2nd D-ring Duarte had shown him.

A long container began emptying itself onto the road surface. It contained 'Graham spray oil lubricant' easily the most 'slippery' lubricant known and used commercially to cool high speed drill bits – very high speed – where water boiled off before cooling the bit, and on ultra-high speed bearings. It was incredibly 'frictionless' as the company's adverts went due to a high silicone content.

**NSA Helicopter**

Casey motioned for Walker and Fisher to put on their headsets and listen to the pilot and for updates from NSA or Beckman. They were 15 minutes flight time from Chuck's last known location. They didn't realize that Chuck had been driving south halving the distance between them as he fled from his assailants.

The local police had provided a description of Chuck's vehicle from security camera records of the parking lot and issued a BOLO. They all wondered how he'd found the time to get a car and the money to pay for it. No sales of vehicles to Bartowski were on record in the DMV files.

Witnesses had reported that a vehicle matching Chuck's had been involved in a multi-car 'incident' in which several vehicles had unsuccessfully tried to run Chuck off the road. One van had flipped over in the median killing the single occupant. The blue Mustang had eluded the other two Suburbans and crossed over and was last reported heading south down the interstate.

The co-pilot spotted Chuck's Mustang just as it passed the Highway Patrol vehicle and alerted Casey and the other two agents. His eye had been drawn to the flashing lights of the cruiser. He banked the chopper around and dropped down to 300 feet and paralleled the roadway in pursuit. They all had a front-row seat to Phase II of 'Bartowski's Revenge'.

**Southbound Interstate**

The pursuing Suburban might have survived the trap except for physics and stupidity. Instead of taking his foot off the gas and allowing the big SUV to simply coast through the oil spill, the driver slammed on his brakes when he felt the loss of traction and control. The intermittent spray pattern had missed sections of the roadway and when the big rig hit a 'dry' patch with its left front wheel, physics took over. The vehicle 'pivoted' on its wheel and the SUV began slowly turning sideways to its path. Then came momentum and the Laws of Thermodynamics: objects in motion tend to stay in motion.

The SUV slammed into the highway patrol car broadside and pushed it into the rear of the 18-wheeler flatbed that was carrying cages full of live chickens, 8,000 of them, to a processing plant. The mess would take hours to clean up and the road was closed. The SUV driver and passenger were killed by the impact. The highway patrolman and the truck driver escaped injury. No one knew how many chickens had survived and escaped from their own version of Auschwitz.

Chuck laughed hysterically at the chain of events and increased his speed to well over 100mph and realized that this was the most fun he'd had in years.

**NSA Helicopter**

"Jesus wept," said the co-pilot. "Did you see that?"

Sarah looked at Casey who was grinning like an idiot (again). "Your boytoy is sure kicking some ass, Walker. He must have borrowed the car from James fucking Bond! I have got to get my hands on that Mustang!"

Karen punched Casey in the ribs, hard. "Watch your mouth, Casey. He's no boytoy. He's all man…" She looked at Walker and winked. Sarah just turned back to the window and watched the Mustang streak down the almost-deserted interstate.

She clamped down hard on the urge to smack Karen in the mouth. They'd have to have a long talk about her history with Chuck and how it was just that…**history**. She'd made her claim known and she didn't need to hear any more tales about 'Karen & Chuck'.

There wouldn't have been _any_ tales if she'd just been honest with herself from the start. She'd been compromised within the first 90 days. Ok, 30 days. Well, certainly since the kiss at the bomb. No earlier. Her professional rep had to be maintained. She should have told him then, figured out how to be with him without 'being with him' where Casey would catch on. She should have pushed for a move-in and better security. Damn it! She should have…done a lot of things she hadn't done.

She grabbed her cell and called him. Such impulsiveness was not her style but she wanted to touch him somehow, let him know she was there and that everything would be all right. They'd be Chuck & Sarah, Bodyguard & Companion, as soon as he calmed down and listened to reason.

He was riding a wave of drug-induced euphoria. He was invincible. He'd just taken out 2/3 of the NSA retrieval team and he'd bet even money that the last vehicle was receiving instructions to terminate him rather than retrieve him. It was only logical. If he slipped away from them, it would take a massive search operation to catch up with him.

His cell rang and he looked at the ID. Might as well get it over with. Funny, every girl or woman he'd gotten involved with had either cheated on him or played him. Walker and Fisher were pros.

"Yeah, Agent Walker, what's on your mind?" He was in a great mood. A fantastic mood. He had nothing to worry about. No one could touch him. He started to laugh.

"What are you doing, Chuck? Where are you going? You know you can't run forever. And why are you running? We can be together, Chuck. I'm your new 'companion'. Karen and Casey are being paired as the brawn and you're the brains and I'm the beauty. Your beauty. Isn't that what you wanted, sweetheart? Us together?"

"I'm just taking a drive, Agent Walker. I'm going where ever this road goes. Running? Yeah, I am. Running away from the hole in the ground. You know that sweet thing Karen? Well, she was Beckman's Dog, Sarah just like you were Graham's. You two will get along just fine. She lied from the beginning, Sarah, just like you lied. You professionals all seem to forget that I know all about you. Everything. Well, OK, not everything. I don't know who you are, really, Agent Walker. But that doesn't matter."

Sarah keyed her mike. "Casey, there's something wrong with him. It's like he's high or something. Find out about those damned drugs Montrose prescribed."

"Chuck, listen carefully, sweetheart. Elaine Bonner. I love you, Chuck Bartowski. Elaine Bonner." She hung up the phone, waiting and hoping.

She knew the exact moment he flashed. The Mustang swerved across the lanes and almost went down into the swale that formed the median dividing the north/south lanes before he got the big car back under control. The car slowed and finally pulled over onto the shoulder of the interstate.

She keyed her mike again. "Pilot, land this helicopter near the Mustang. I'm getting out. Casey, I told him my name, it's going to be OK. I'm getting out here. Going for a drive with my boy friend. I'll call you with an assessment. He might need to be back in the hospital, I won't know until I see him. He's still sick and I won't risk his health for anything."

Chuck sat in his idling car reviewing the flash dump he'd gotten from the intersect. Elaine Marie Bonner. He saw her recruitment file, her picture. A tough looking brunette of 16 or 17 with braces and acne. He reviewed her missions, her successes and failures, and her psych profile. He saw everything. He saw Casey's report on her relationship with the 'asset' and how she was compromised. He'd requested a 49B assessment.

It was Beckman who'd orchestrated the 49B debacle. She _wanted_ the compromise to secure the efforts of the asset for the foreseeable future.

So, either they were really desperate to capture him or…

He leaned back in his seat. He was suddenly tired. Weary. He watched as the helicopter landed in the highway 20 yards away and the side passenger door slid back and a 30-something blonde hopped out, took a bag from Casey and bent down and ran over to the Mustang. He popped the locks automatically. He was running on instinct and empty. His Beast was asleep and he would be soon.

The helicopter took off and headed south leaving Sarah Walker alone on the highway. She walked over to the passenger side and opened the door, surprised it was unlocked.

She ran a quick assessment on her asset. Obviously exhausted, running on pure adrenalin and getting ready to crash. She pulled out her cell phone and made a call. "Casey, change of plans. Get that chopper back on the ground here and you and the She Devil can drive his car back. He's getting ready to crash and he needs the hospital." She hung up and reached over and turned off the ignition.

"Chuck, we're going for a helicopter ride back the NSA facility in L.A. You shouldn't be out and about yet. You're running on empty and you need to sleep. I'll be with you every moment, Chuck, I won't leave you. And I won't betray you. I meant everything I said to you, baby, every damned word. I'm just sorry that it took losing you to give me the courage to tell you that. You were right. I was more concerned for my job than anything. But that's all ancient history because my _personal _mission priorities have changed."

He looked at her blankly. He was trying to process the big words in her speech. He was so tired…


	22. Sarah Cries and Chuck Dreams of Weddings

Thelaststraw1v2 I found another chapter. Bored. J's still in the DR. Maybe tonight? Anyhow, here it is.

* * *

The chopper landed and Casey and Karen got out and ran over to the Mustang. Chuck was mumbling 1- 3 – 3 – 1 over and over. Casey pulled him out of the car and half carried, half dragged him over to the chopper where Sarah stood waiting. She took Chuck from Casey but he broke away and staggered to the Mustang and stood in front of the open car door weaving.

"Christ, Bartowski, I won't hurt your precious car. You and Sarah are definitely a pair." He took Chuck by the arm but Chuck was adamant even though it was obvious to Casey he was about to crash hard.

"No, no, no, 1-3-3-1, before you start or BOOM!" Casey looked at him and realized that Chuck was talking about a start-up booby trap. He shook his head and led Chuck to the car and said, "Show me, Chuck. Show me 1-3-3-1"

Chuck sat down, glanced at Karen and frowned. He seemed to be mulling something over but then he looked at Casey and said "1-3-3-1" and turned the ignition key and then pushed the radio buttons and then started the car. "No boom, John, no boom." He leaned his forehead against the steering wheel and was instantly asleep before Casey could do anything other than breathe a sigh of relief. If he hadn't told him about the trap it would have been over before he knew it.

Casey pulled Chuck out of the Mustang, threw him over his shoulder and walked to the waiting chopper. The debt to Chuck kept piling up in Casey's tote board. Between them, Sarah and Casey got him belted in and then the chopper took off for the NAS Los Angeles facility.

**Burbank General Hospital  
****Burbank, CA**

Two men appeared at the ER entrance of Burbank General Hospital and asked for Dr. Eleanor Bartowski. When Ellie walked up and identified herself, one of the NSA agents presented her with a letter from General Beckman requesting that she attend to one "Charles Jefferson" at NAS Los Angeles because of her 'deep personal and professional interest in the patient'. Ellie was not dumb. Chuck needed her. She told the agents to wait and she'd get her purse and be with them in a few minutes. While she was in the locker room she called Sarah who called Beckman who confirmed the letter and the need. Like I said, Ellie was not dumb.

"Let's go, G-Men. My little brother needs me. Move it. He's probably bleeding from a zillion wounds or has contracted some rare and deadly disease and you're just walking? Move it!"

**Medical Facility  
****NSA Los Angeles**

Ellie got off the elevator still accompanied by the two NSA agents and was directed to Chuck's room. Sarah Walker was sitting in a chair beside Chuck's hospital bed holding his hand and watching him sleep. Her back was to the door, something no agent would comfortably do, but she wanted to be able to do all the things she wanted at the same time. Besides, this was an NSA facility and there were agents placed at either end of the hall to ensure his security. Whoever was trying to snatch him had lost most of their teams in the field. But her 9mm was still in her lap as a last resort.

"Sarah, what happened?" Ellie could tell that something significant had happened since Sarah was silently crying, tears drifting down her cheeks. Her makeup was a mess but she wouldn't let go of his hand. Not for anything. She'd promised him.

"He almost got snatched by Ful - an enemy. He thought we were behind it and he ran. It was a huge miscommunication and misunderstanding. He stood his ground when he had to and he ran when he should have. He did nothing wrong. He performed brilliantly."

After a moment, she continued.

"That's not true. He did something wrong. He fell in love with the wrong woman. I tried to keep it from happening, Ellie, I promise you I did. Each time we got close, every time I felt my walls crumbling I'd hurt him. And he still came back again and again. Because he loved me. Until finally, he stopped coming back. He'd learned his lesson. And I'd learned mine. I'd learned that spies could love, we shouldn't, but we could and I did. But I was almost too late. And today, today, I gave him my deepest secret, and it felt so good."

"So why so sad, Sarah? You should be happy. He's going to be fine. He's here and he's safe with you guarding him. He's exhausted but after all he's been through, who wouldn't be? You should be happy."

"I hope we can overcome our anger and mistrust and fear and have what we should have, each other. I love your brother, Ellie, and it hurts to watch him lie there. He could have died today, he almost died of disease and he almost got killed by that Samurai wannabe and each time I could have lost all my tomorrows. My pride and 'professionalism' drove him into the arms of another woman, Ellie, one who was open and loving, not secretive or corrupt. I was so incredibly jealous and so incredibly mean and cold to him."

"You mean Karen, don't you?" Ellie had seen the two interact after the Tea Garden fight. Each struggling to help the man they both loved, one open and hopeful, the other closed off and beaten but still very devoted to saving him. How fate twisted the skeins and unraveled those two lives.

"Yeah, Karen. She and Casey were married and the job destroyed it. That's what I'm afraid of, Ellie. That the job will destroy us, Chuck and I. Every couple has problems enough without the weight of the intersect bearing down on them. I just don't know if I'm strong enough to carry the load."

"Sarah, Chuck will carry it for both of you until you're ready. He's so strong-willed about some things and you'll find out that he has more depth than you realize. And he does love you, Sarah Walker. Don't ever doubt that." Ellie gave her free hand a squeeze then went to pull Chuck's charts to see what that quack Montrose had prescribed in the way of drugs. She promised herself to get more out of Sarah when the agent was less…unsure of herself.

Chuck started dreaming, trying to talk and ending up in a coughing spasm. Sarah was at his side with a glass and straw.

"Here," a disembodied voice whispered and raised his head and touched his lips to a straw. He drank greedily and fell back to sleep and his dream.

_The dream was subtle with many layers of meaning. He was standing at an altar dressed in formal clothes waiting for his bride to walk down the aisle. There were three aisles all converging at the foot of the dais on which he stood with the priest and a man who he assumed was his best man but could never focus on to identify._

_Three heavily veiled brides walked down the aisle escorted by three John Caseys. When they met at the foot of the dais the three Caseys merged into one and took his place with other guests in the front pew, a knowing smirk on his face. _

_Chuck stepped down and raised the veil of the first bride and the rotting remains of Sarah Walker smiled at him. 'I told you I wouldn't live in a world without you'. He raised the veil on the second bride and an angry Sarah Walker greeted him with 'let's hurry up and get this over with, Cole and Bryce are waiting for me. It's just for the cover anyway.' The last bride waited patiently for Chuck to raise her veil._

_He knew this was his final chance. If he raised the veil he was agreeing to marry whoever or whatever was behind it. He stepped back to 'Angry Sarah' and asked her why she was marrying him. 'Because Beckman says it's a mission requirement, moron. You think I'd marry someone like you when I could have Cole or Bryce if it wasn't a job requirement? Get serious, loser. I mean, really. Look at me. Look at you. Do you think for one minute that I'd marry you unless I __**had**__ to?'_

_He stepped over to the rotting corpse and asked the same question. 'Because I want a life with you, even like this. I love you, baby. If you just love me as much as I love you I'll heal, Chuck. Please, don't throw away our one chance. I'll heal but you'll have to trust me and believe in us.'_

_He stepped over to the third and final bride and asked the same question. 'Because if you don't marry me I'll have your team killed; everyone you love and hold dear will be murdered; all that death and destruction all for what? Love? Really. There is no place for it in the spy world. Now choose, Bartowski, because I have things to do and this is wreaking havoc on my schedule.' He didn't have to raise the veil. He'd know that venomous voice anywhere. Beckman. _

'_Don't let me keep you, General'. His katana appeared in his hand and he sliced her in half, diagonally and she disappeared._

_He strode over to the angry Sarah and scowled at her. 'So much for your 'heat of the moment', Agent Walker.' His katana morphed into a flamethrower and he burned her to smoke and cinders._

_He walked over to the first bride, kissed her rotting lips softly and took her decaying hand and walked her up to the dais. He would trust fate and her. _

_Others began calling his name. Chuck, Chuck_…

A soft voice whispered in his ear "Chuck, it's just a dream, baby, go back to sleep. It's just a dream. This is not about the cover or the job and I won't leave you. I love you, Chuck, now go back to sleep. I'm right here, sweetheart, right where I belong." He slept.

Ellie came back into the room and pulled up a chair and handed Sarah Chuck's chart. "Look at the final comments. That low life bastard had even charted the terminal effects of his efforts in a time line, probably for his bosses. That means someone else here is involved, Sarah, don't you think? I mean why else would you make notations on the patient's chart that could later be used against you? He was communicating with someone via Chuck's chart."

"You mean 'disch 7am 4x 30hrs' means something to you?" It didn't mean anything to Sarah which meant it was good spycraft – or a doctor's scribbling.

"Well, I'm guessing that the drugs taken 4 times daily would result in a reaction within 30 hours. That's just a theory."

Sarah started counting on her fingers and had to agree, except either he'd skipped a dose or he just hung on longer, the doctor was off by about 2 or 3 hours.

"So what exactly did these drugs do, Ellie?"

Ellie fixed her with a hard and cold stare. "They cause conditions of extreme paranoia, aggressive behavior and then a period of euphoria and then, I'm not certain, but I think docility and acquiescence. If he'd kept taking them, I think he'd have gone catatonic eventually. Isn't that what you spies want?"

"I never used them. Worst I ever used were sleeping pills." And poison and truth serums and a host of other pharmacopia.

Sarah pulled out her cell and called Casey and informed him of Ellie's suspicions. "Well, Walker, we're going over everyone's records with fine toothed comb. Anyone with anything to hide will be found. I'll inform Beckman. YOU just stay there and watch the boy's ass. And I need you to see what we found in the trunk and some other 'surprises' this guy provided Chuck."

She disconnected and then returned her attention to Ellie.

"So what now, Sarah? What becomes of Charles Bartowski, son of Natalie and Stephen, brother of Eleanor?" She'd recited the same lineage Chuck had at the Tea Garden.

"We live together, hopefully happily, and we see where life takes us. I don't know if I'm the marrying kind, Ellie, and I am terrified at the thought of having a child. Especially in our current situation. But I'll do whatever it takes to keep him happy."

"Sounds like a job requirement. Keep the computer genius happy and productive."

"Keeping him happy is a personal goal and if he's productive, that's just an added benefit."

"And when they're done with him? When they have their computerized Chuck? What then?"

"We'll disappear. I won't let them hurt him. You and I will have to have a plan in the event I'm…unavailable, Ellie. Also a way for us to communicate with you if we get out together. I won't have us cut off totally from friends and family."

Ellie's great mood began to darken. "Define 'unavailable'."

"Well, if I'm dead, on 'assignment' without him – which is not supposed to ever happen given my brief – or if they come for him when he's with you. It shouldn't ever be a problem. He's an incredible asset to our agencies. They'd be fools to think a machine can do what my Chuck can do. Connecting dots is his strength and a computer's weakness."

"Let's plan on getting together soon. I don't trust your bosses and I don't have any faith at all in my government. All this 'greater good' crap sounds like 'Big Brother' to me and I'm a flaming liberal according to Devon."

Sarah laughed for the first time since arriving. "Sure thing, Ellie. Definitely. We'll have to find a nice and safe way to bring Devon into the fold, Ellie. Especially when you guys marry. Chuck thinks the world of the Captain Awesome."

"Speaking of Awesome, I'd better call him and make up an excuse for my abrupt absence. He's like Chuck, overly protective sometimes, and those times are always the least convenient."

After Ellie left, Sarah sat down and resumed her vigil less the tears. Having Ellie in her life was a godsend. Some one who shared her fears for Chuck with none of the knowledge of how dangerous their situation could become in a heartbeat.

She whispered, "Wake up, Chuck. I really need to know you're OK and that you understand what's happening and why. Please, baby, I need you."


	23. The Calm Before the Shitstorm

Thelaststrawepilogue1a2

J's not in yet and I gave our Saints tickets to the neighbors. Enjoy. I'll watch it on tv. Ummmm, I think there are more chapters. I'll worry about it later.

* * *

**NSA Medical Facility  
Los Angeles, CA**

Karen and Casey had come in to relieve Sarah from her vigil for a while and ended up talking for more than four hours while Chuck slept on, oblivious. She'd kept her promise and hadn't left his side except for 'bathroom breaks'.

Casey was very impressed with Chuck's Mustang and especially with all it's 'enhancements' although he thought the start-up bomb was a bit over the top. He went on and on about how it would top out at 140mph but had a nitrous unit he didn't want to fool with without Chuck's OK. And he also mentioned the bullet-resistant side windows and windshield.

"Why don't we have that, Casey? Chuck wouldn't have been injured at the warehouse center."

"Think of it as a blessing in disguise. We'd never have known about his blood disease and he might have died." They were quiet, each thinking about their response to his illness. Casey shook himself and changed the subject.

"You know, Walker, Chuck's as protective of his 'Stang as you are of that pile of German junk you drive. And his 'Stang is so much more practical since it seats more than ONE comfortably." Casey hated riding in Sarah's car because of the seats and just… because.

"Where do you suppose Chuck came up with the Mustang and a really incredible identity package in less than 4 hours and never had to pay a dime?"

They'd found a bag with $5,000 in it in the trunk of the car with a note saying that 'he would not take money for doing what was owed and that he still owed him more than he could ever repay'.

Sarah had found his new passport and identity items when she'd taken off his jacket and clothes at the NSA Facility. That's how Beckman knew to ask Ellie to treat Charles Jefferson.

"And what did he do that someone felt all that wasn't payment enough?"

"We'll have to wait until he wakes up and understands the situation before asking him anything about his adventure. Knowing Chuck, he'll never say anything since he would be betraying a friend. It's part of his honor code."

"Yeah, well, Beckman's got to figure out how to 'redeem' herself if she ever wants to be the 'Cougar' in Chuck's life." Casey laughed at his own joke but the two women didn't. They each thought the same thing though: _Ewwww, gross!_

"I was the cougar in his life. Eight years difference in age and it was like it didn't matter." Karen spoke softly and looked at Sarah with a wink but then smiled at her ex-husband and current boyfriend to take the sting out of the comment.

"I'm eight months older and it won't make a damn bit of difference to us." Now it was her turn to wink.  


* * *

Casey and Karen left about 11pm after sitting with Chuck while she'd taken a quick shower and changed into hospital scrubs. She'd washed out her underwear and left it to dry in the nurses' locker room. She hated putting on dirty underwear. Made her feel unclean again.

She was tired. It had been a long and emotional day and she longed to just curl up on the bed beside him but kept sitting and thinking until finally Ellie came in and said she was leaving and for Sarah to quit being 'stuck on stupid' and curl up beside her brother. She'd leave a note on the door.

She kicked off her scrub slippers and slid into the bed next to him. No wires, catheters or tubes this time. Just the two of them. She pulled his arm around her and snuggled up against him enjoying the feeling of him close to her. She was asleep within minutes.

Chuck woke up and realized he was not alone in his bed. The he realized it wasn't his bed. Oh, crap. He couldn't remember a damned thing except having a great time driving his Mustang and liberating the chickens. He started to giggle then laugh. He slipped out of bed and wobbled his way to the bathroom in his apartment but ran into a wall. Oh, crap! He flicked on the light for a moment.

Reassured by a quick personal survey that all his parts were intact and noticing the absence of wires and hoses and tubes and various drainage tools, he wobbled back to his bed.

He slipped back into the warm bed and was attacked by a woman hissing fiercely at him to 'never leave me alone again like that without waking me' and wrapping herself around him and burying her face in his chest. Apparently she'd had a bad dream or something and awoke without his presence and it freaked her out.

Chuck had one immediate and overriding concern. Who was he in bed with? And secondly, why were he and his new cuddler in a hospital room? Oh yeah, he'd recognized the plumbing, the décor and the mattress filled with bricks.

"Karen, you're not supposed to be here, remember. We're friends, that's all. Go find Casey. Please. I'm only human."

"Not Karen." She'd whisper-hissed at him.

"Sarah? Sarah Walker?" He didn't know that many other women so it was a simple process of elimination. Plus he had some vague memory of a helicopter ride and Casey stealing his car.

"No, not Sarah." Oh, crap! He'd run out of women unless…

"General?" .

"NO…that's just plain gross, Mr. Bartowski."

"I didn't think I'd get the chance to meet you, Elaine. I'm so happy you're here."

"So am I, Chuck. Both of me are glad."

"So, does this mean you've quit calling me 'Mr. Bartowski' now?"

" You deserved it. You ignored me and I wanted to talk about us, Chuck, and you just focused on the damned mission like you were a …a…a damned _agent_!"

"I couldn't make a mistake, Sarah, a misjudgment; your life and safety and even the Casey's are too important to me. How would I feel if I made a mistake and someone got hurt? Or 'perforated in pieces' if I remember the outcome correctly?"

"And then, Chuck, you got injured again and it was all my fault. And then you went away with _her_ and got sick and then you had to go and play Samurai Warrior and almost got killed and…and…" The rest was lost in huge lung-busting sobs as she let it all go for the first time in her adult life.

Chuck just held on, waiting for the ride to end, for her to run out of steam and fall asleep and when she did finally slip into sleep he just held her to him and smiled. They'd be fine. The next 50 years were going to be very interesting.

He woke up before her and slipped out of bed and into the shower. He slipped on the same clothes and shaved then went out and shook his bed warmer awake.

"Hey, Sarah Walker, Agent Extraordinaire, we have a big day ahead of us. Move it. We need to move your stuff into my apartment." He couldn't believe she was such a sound sleeper. He pulled on her shoulder and rolled her on her back. Her eyes were wide open, staring at nothing. Her throat had been cut from ear to ear.

"Nooooooooooooooo!" His terrified scream sent a suddenly wide-awake Sarah Walker into hyper-protective mode, her 9mm held out in front of her pointing at the closed hospital room door her body shielding him from any attackers. He was holding himself and rocking back and forth muttering 'no, no, no' over and over.

Ellie threw open the door and Sarah almost fired. "Sarah, no, it's me, Ellie!"

She rushed over to Chuck and put her arms around him, reassuring him that he was all right and telling him where he was and who he was with. She leaned across her brother and pushed down the pistol and whispered, "I forgot to warn you, terrible dreams and night terrors for a while until whatever he got is out of his system. Sorry."

Sarah safed her pistol and put it back under the pillow and then put her arms around Chuck and held him tight whispering to Ellie, "Go, it's OK, I have him now." Her heart had slowed and she was calming herself. Chuck needed her. It felt good to be needed again.

After Ellie left, Sarah got up and closed the door and turned out the bathroom light. She slipped back into bed and adjusted it so that she was sitting almost upright. She pulled Chuck across her and held him tightly to her whispering that she was there, that it was all right, and that he could sleep now because she was on guard.

He was still trembling 10 minutes later so she started rocking him and cooing nonsense syllables and finally he seemed to fall asleep. She pressed kisses into his sweaty brow and finally drifted back to sleep herself.

Chuck woke and sat up, breaking her hold on him and startling her awake. "Sorry, Sarah, got to use the facilities. Go back to sleep, honey, I'll just be a minute." She smiled and closed her eyes but didn't sleep until he was back beside her.

"Sorry about before. I – you were dead. Someone had cut your throat and I was trying to wake you and you were dead… I'm sorry I lost it. It was so real, so very real. I could smell the blood and your eyes…"

She leaned over and met his vacant stare until he focused on her. "Hey, the drugs, they made your fears real, baby. It's nothing to be sorry about. It was a human reaction. It'll take time to get that butcher's crap out of your system and until then, consider this space mine, understand? I love you, Chuck, and it's not the job, it's the real deal."

"Good. We have some things to discuss, to iron out, and plans to make. I have an apartment but if it's not what you want we'll look elsewhere. Come to think of it, it's nearer to the Castle than this place so we'll have to go apartment hunting. OK?"

She grinned and then chuckled. "I've never done it before. I mean, gone hunting for an apartment with a guy. Maybe a small house if we can't find one we both like? Or a condo. A house would be too much with our jobs and all. A condo would be perfect."

"I'd live in a dumpster if it made you happy, Sarah. A condo is a vast improvement. I've had the apartment for a week but only spent the one night in it. I don't even have a coffee pot."

"Good. We can do all this stuff together then. I love shopping, Chuck. Speaking of shopping, where'd you pick up the Mustang? Casey's so jealous. And pissed."

"Why's he mad this time?"

"You saved him and Karen from being blown up and so he owes you his life. He hates owing people. And he loves your car. Seriously, baby, I think he'd give you Karen for the 'Stang."

He got the strangest look on his face, sad and distracted for just a moment but she'd seen it.

"Chuck, am I assuming something? That you want to be with me? Are you and Karen…"? She left the question hanging.

He sighed and she stiffened up.

"I love Karen, Sarah, but I don't get butterflies when she smiles at me and my chest doesn't get tight with fear when she's in danger. She's just an incredible friend that I've had a lot of sex with and it feels strange to be around her. She makes me feel…uncomfortable and I don't know why or maybe I do and I just don't want to admit it."

"Keep talking, Bartowski." She was appalled and angry and hurt and upset and…She felt like shit.

He'd done the best he could with what he'd had. She knew that given enough time, he would have loved Karen as much as he loved her. And that frightened her down deep where she kept her insecurities. How easily she could have lost him to time. And she knew that Karen had thrown herself at Chuck because subconsciously she still loved Casey and wanted his attention and more.

"I promised never to lie to you Sarah. Should I start now? Should I tell you she was just a 'thing' and nothing more? Why would you believe me when I tell you how I feel about you if I lie about how I felt about her? That's not how I want us to work, sweetie."

"No, Chuck. Don't' start lying to me now. There's been enough of it in our relationship in the past, almost all on my part and I'm sorry, so sorry for that. I don't want either of us to be afraid to tell the other the truth, ever."

"Fine. To answer your question, yes, I want to be with you, I want you in my life outside of the job and I'll never lie to you. I love you and it's 'the real deal', too."

He started flashing on Sarah Walker, Lisa Drummond, Eva Waleska, and all the aliases she's adopted over the course of her long career. Finally he settled in on Elaine Bonner and turned her files inside out and learned everything he needed to know to deal with her, everything. He file was very complete.

Five minutes later he startled her out of a daydream when he started talking. "I know you now. And you know what? It doesn't matter at all. It's not who you are to me, it's who you were to them. Doesn't matter at all, not one bit. I know who I love and it doesn't matter. So don't worry about us, our future. It's all new from now on."

She hugged him even tighter and felt her heart swell. They would do just fine. All her doubts evaporated like dew in the desert. "Thank you, Chuck. I didn't know just how much I needed to hear that. I feel free for the first time in so long, baby. Thank you for loving me. I'll try and be what you need and want. Just be patient. I've never loved anyone before. Not like this. So, have patience. I'm new at this and I've never had a successful relationship before outside of the job. And those weren't all that nice, when you think about it."


	24. And the Truth Shall Set Ye Free

T/N: He's another one. There's probably another one or two, i just have to find them. enjoy. review.

* * *

The next morning Sarah and Ellie were checking out his apartment and seeing if it would be at all 'acceptable'. Ellie would not be returning to the Facility but instead would resume her 'normal life'.

Chuck was 'summoned' to the communications room for a briefing with General Beckman. Chuck sat down at the conference table. There had been only one seat placed at the table and the others had been removed from the room.

"Good morning, Mr. Bartowski. I hope you enjoyed your brief drive through California?"

"Don't remember much of it, to tell you the truth. Just bits and pieces and I'm not sure which of those are real and which are things I imagined."

"Well, let's start at the beginning when you read the shut-down order for the Castle. What did you do?"

Chuck went through the steps of his preparation and his 'cell phone' trick and his drive north.

"Where did you get the Mustang you were driving? There are no records of any sale or are there any means of tracing the vehicle. It seems to have appeared as if by magic."

"I have a friend in East Los Angeles and I purchased the vehicle from him for $5,000 that I had saved prior to getting involved with…the government."

"It was a very impressive vehicle to say the least. It had been modified and additions made that proved very…helpful to you. We'd like to speak with whoever created your Mustang and perhaps send some business his way."

"I will ask if he's interested, General, and let you know his response as soon as I'm able to leave this place."

"You misunderstood me, I asked who he was so that representatives of the Agency could interview him and offer him some additional business. A professional relationship, nothing more. We don't care what he does for anyone else, just what he can do for us."

"I understood fine, ma'am. I can't tell you his name. I gave my word and I won't break it."

Beckman appeared amused, as if she had anticipated this in her opponent, for that's what he was for this interview, her opponent.

"You said you purchased the vehicle for $5,000 but the money and a note were found in the trunk. He wouldn't accept the money and considered his debt to you unpaid. What did you do for him, Mr. Bartowski and when did you perform your service?"

"Four years ago. I got his daughter into the AP classes at her high school and tutored her. She graduates from college this year and starts Med School in the fall."

"You tutored his daughter and he gave you a high-performance vehicle for something you did four years ago? You expect me to believe that?"

"Yes. It's the truth. Although I paid for the vehicle. I didn't know about the package in the trunk. I never looked in the trunk. As for the daughter, she was running with a bad crowd and on the brink of drugs and prostitution and I showed her another way, that's all. Her father makes too much of it."

"Mr. Bartowski, if you don't answer my questions fully and truthfully, I will be forced to use other means to obtain the information. Unpleasant means."

"General, bring it on. You'll get the same answers to your questions and all you'll lose is my somewhat shaky trust. I don't think I will give up my friend, even if drugs are involved."

"We'll see, Mr. Bartowski." Two men came into the conference room and took Chuck away.

Chuck was taken to a room and strapped to a gurney and a nurse he'd never seen before came in and injected him with a drug. He could feel the warmth spreading up his arm and he felt relaxed and sleepy but not enough to actually go to sleep.

"Mr. Bartowski, do you own an automobile?" No, Charles Jefferson owns the Mustang. Charles Jefferson.

Chuck thought about the question and answered it truthfully. "No. I don't own an automobile."

The agents exchanged glances. One was amused, the other irritated.

"Mr. Bartowski, have you ever driven a blue Mustang?"

"Yes."

"Where did you get it?"

"I have a friend in East L.A. He chops cars and I needed a vehicle. I paid him $5,000 for the car and an ID package."

"So, Mr. Bartowski, you own a Blue Mustang?"

"No, I don't own an automobile. I already told you that."

"Shit. OK, next question. What is the friend's name? The one who got you the Mustang?"

Chuck started to sweat. He felt the words in his throat and knew he would give up Duarte in a few minutes. He wasn't strong enough. He would betray his…NO! He would not answer the question.

"What is his name, Chuck?" A few seconds later, "What is his name?"

"I won't tell." The muscles in his face ached from clenching his teeth and the cords in his neck stood out. He flashed on Duarte in the intersect. Why he hadn't before he didn't know. Maybe it was desperation. He saw his name on the file. His real name. They thought it was an alias or a gang name. Let them find it. It wasn't even an important enough file to be current.

"Miguel…Miguel…ahhhh…ahhhh…Jesus…ahhhh"

"Go on, Chuck. Tell us his name and you can go back to your room. Tell us his name."

"."

"Tellustellustellustellus."

"That's enough, gentlemen. Very impressive, don't you think? Very impressive. He 'answered' every question except the last one. And he split hairs answering those first ones and not tell us a damned thing. Take him back to his room."  


* * *

When Sarah returned she knew immediately that something was off. He never made eye contact and his answers were monosyllabic if he bothered at all. He was fiddling with his sleeve and she saw a dot of blood on the sleeve.

She grabbed his arm and pushed up the sleeve and saw the injection site. She grew quiet and then pulled him into an embrace. "I'll never leave you alone again for one minute in this place. Beckman. That bitch. Tell me what happened, Chuck. Please?"

It took 10 seconds to tell the story. He didn't go into detail and she didn't ask. She knew how the sessions went. She was just glad they hadn't used physical methods to 'soften him up'.

"Why now, Sarah? Does she think I'm suddenly a security risk? This might not be a long-term assignment for you after all." He lay down on the bed and rolled over with his back to her. She was angry and it would do no good to have a fit here with him present. He'd just find a way to turn it against himself.

The next time they came for both of them. Beckman was in rare form.

"Mr. Bartowski, you passed the last test with flying colors. You didn't answer one question truthfully. My congratulations. A polygraph is next on the agenda. Agent Walker, you will observe the proceedings."

The same two agents came and escorted him to the 'testing room', the same room he'd been in before. Sarah was taken to an observation room told to sit down and watch and learn. The trank pistol in his hand spoke volumes.

"Why are you doing this to him? He's done nothing wrong."

"Security protocols. He broke them. The General needs to know certain information. He'll tell her what she needs to know and then he'll be released on schedule. It's that simple. He's the one making it difficult."

In the other room, the 'angry' agent from the previous session hooked up Chuck to a standard polygraph but then attached electrodes to his ear lobes and his lower lip.

"I ask a question. You answer the question truthfully. If you do, no problems but if you don't…" He touched a button on the machine and Chuck received a severe electric shock. He grunted instead of screaming as they wanted. He'd figured something like this would happen and he'd prepared himself as best he could mentally.

"Is your name Charles Bartowski?"

"Yes."

"Do you own a Blue Mustang?"

"No." The agent overrode the machine's response of true and jabbed at the button. Chuck grunted as the pain rolled through him. It felt like all his muscles cramped for a brief moment.

"Did you purchase a Blue Mustang?"

"Yes." Again the Agent overrode the machine's reading of 'true'. And again Chuck only grunted.

"Do you know the name of the man who sold you the Mustang?"

"Yes." No jab this time.

"See? Tell the truth and there's no pain. Now, did you purchase a Blue Mustang?" True, zap, grunt. And so it went on until Chuck simply stopped answering any questions at all.

The testing was halted when he closed his eyes and sat through the shocks without any response at all.

The agent with Sarah looked through the glass and shook his head. "Amazing. How far did you get in this testing at the Farm?"

"Five questions. Only five. I never thought to just shut up and take it until they either quit or I passed out. There's no point in this. He's not an agent. He's a valuable asset and we're going to lose his cooperation if this continues." She didn't mention that the next time she found either of these Agents alone she was planning on killing them.

* * *

That night Chuck asked Sarah to leave, to sleep someplace else. He said he understood what was going on finally and that he wanted her anyplace but there.

"No. My place is here with you." Chuck just shook his head. "Fine job of body guarding, Agent Walker." He knew it was unfair but he wanted to be alone. And he didn't want any blame to fall on her. She left the room rather than have him see her cry.

Pulling herself together, she called Beckman.

"Beckman. What is it, Agent Walker? Is something wrong with Mr. Bartowski?"

"I want off this assignment. I can't do my job if these damned tests keep undermining my position with him. His comment to me tonight was "Fine job of body guarding, Agent Walker" and he told me to sleep elsewhere. This is totally unnecessary. What do you hope to prove with this damned…torture?"

"That he can resist interrogation in the event you're out of the picture, Agent Walker. I'm trying to keep him out of a hole in the desert, Sarah. The Intelligence committee was very concerned when they learned we'd 'lost' him for 2 days and that he had to save himself from being taken by Fulcrum associates. They want protective detention. I'm buying you time, Sarah. Use it. If they get the name of the seller of the Mustang, he's gone. That's what they're looking for." She disconnected.

She went to Chuck's room and pulled him out of his bed and shoved him into the shower and turned on the water. She hugged him to her and whispered, "This is all a test. Beckman's on our side. The Intel Committee wants you in detention and Beckman's trying to prove you won't crack. Baby, you have to do this. Don't plan on running. They'll kill you if you do. And I'll die killing them. Don't send me away. I need to be with you."

He looked at her face, the intensity and emotion, and he was convinced she was telling him the truth. "So what do we do? How do we play this?"

"It's totally up to you. All they want is the name of the man who sold you the Mustang. That's all. If they get it, you're broken and gone. If you can hold out for a few more days, we'll be out of here and back on the program. You have to resist, Chuck. No matter what they do, baby, you have to resist."

The next morning when they came for him Sarah attacked the agent who'd done the polygraph and severely changed his relationship with his girlfriend for the next few days. It didn't matter. The other agent tranked her and put her on Chuck's bed and then the two agents led Chuck to another room.

Sarah woke up from her 'nap' and immediately searched for Chuck. The shower was running and she went in to check on him. He was standing under the hot water and not moving. She gasped when she saw his back. Apparently they'd used belts to beat him while he was hanging from his wrists because there were angry bruises around each wrist probably caused by handcuffs. When she touched one of the welts on his back with a fingertip he jerked away. He looked at her with a sad smile and softly said, "I didn't answer a single question. Not one."


	25. Bartowski Grows Up

Thelaststrawepilogue3

I didn't know quite where to split this so here's the whole thing. Saints won! They played like crap but hey…Saints won! nicolef

**NSA Medical Facility  
****Los Angeles, CA**

The next morning they took Sarah. Ten minutes later they came for him. He was escorted into an observation room and one wrist was handcuffed to the chair. He could sit comfortably and the NSA agent had brought him a cup of coffee and set it on the table in front of him. He walked over and opened the drapes on the observation window.

Sarah Walker was naked from the waist up and hanging handcuffed from a hook in the ceiling and the 'angry' agent was fondling her breasts and holding a straight razor. He turned to look at the one-way mirror and he leered knowing the subject would see it.

"Mr. Bartowski, tell us the name of the man who sold you the Mustang or my partner will begin cutting on your girlfriend. And trust me, she'll never wear a bikini again. Now, I'm going to ask his name and you're going to tell me his name. Simple and so far, painless – for you, that is."

"No. I will not answer any questions." Chuck's Beast broke through the bars of its cage and howled in rage.

He turned and rapped on the window with his knuckles. "I doubt any man will look twice at her. In fact…" He was leaning over the table attempting to 'dominate' with his physical presence and his coat opened. Chuck spied the 9mm service pistol in a breakaway holster. He grabbed the pistol and tore it out of the holster and kicked the mocking agent in the knee and he went down. He looked up and saw a bright spill of red blood flowing down the center of Sarah's chest. The Beast took over. It did what it did best.

The agent on the ground panicked and yelled, "Abort the test! Abort, abort!" Chuck heard the door to the observation room burst open but he was committed.

Time slowed to a crawl. He thumbed off the safety and shot the agent on the ground in the chest just as the first trank dart hit him. He saw a nurse run in and cover a crying Sarah with a robe and hustle her out of the room. He felt the drugged cold coming on him and he hurried to accomplish his mission.

They would get no answers from a dead intersect and the 'tests' would be halted without any more harm coming to his Sarah. Small price. He put the pistol to his head and pulled the trigger.

**Conference Room  
****NSA Facility, Los Angeles, CA**

Agents Emory and Parsons were in the cross hairs. And General Diane Beckman was the shooter. They were only following orders, her orders, they said. Make the test situation realistic and pull out all the stops she'd told them. And wear vests, she'd told them. They'd followed orders.

She'd watched the test session real time and so had the Intelligence Committee. Considering the outcome, there would be no further tests. There was no need. The Committee members were all in agreement that Charles Bartowski should be returned to normal operational status with the full assurances of no further 'testing'. Now all she had to do was repair the incredible damage done to the asset relationship.

"You are both relieved from this operation. Report to your regular station for reassignment. Pray, gentlemen, pray that Team Bartowski does not find you anytime in the future because what happened at the Tea Garden will seem like delicate surgery compared to the butchery you will face. Dismissed." Like good bureaucrats and politicians everywhere, she'd figured out whom to blame it on.

Both agents had seen the bootleg tapes of the "Tea Garden Affair" as it was being called in the NSA. They'd seen the look on Bartowski's face and they'd seen it again in the interrogation room when he pulled the trigger. Patagonia and the Aleutians suddenly seemed decent reassignments after all.

**NSA Medical Facility**

Chuck 'slept' 6 hours and then awoke but pretended to still be asleep as he assessed is situation. He was not restrained which was a plus. He didn't hear the annoying 'beep beep' of a heart monitor nor any of the other sounds normally related to waking up after an injury or illness. He cracked an eye open slightly and saw Sarah sitting beside his bed, her 9mm held lightly in her hand and her gaze fixed on the closed door to his room. _'Bodyguard, my ass. A tigress is more descriptive._'

"Hey." He croaked.

"Hey." She didn't sound much better.

"Come here, you. I need to make sure this isn't an 'into the light' experience. Please, Sarah."

"No. I'm fine. You're the one with the powder burns on your face. How could you do anything so stupid? All you had to do was just sit there…"

"Stupid? Stupid? How could I let that bastard cut you, hurt you, when I could stop it? What kind of man do you think I am?"

She was quiet for a moment and then almost whispered, "You're a very good man, Chuck, too good to be involved in this shit. And too good for me. I'm a liability to you, Chuck. If that had been real…"

He jumped off the bed and grabbed her and pulled up the sleeves on her top and saw the garish bruises that marred her white skin and wrists. With a sudden move he tore open her top and saw an 8-inch long gauze bandage. He gently removed it and gasped. There were 5 butterflies starkly white against the red slice of the razor wound between her breasts. He gathered her to him and just held her.

"It _was_ real, Sarah. The question is, 'how far would they have gone'? I couldn't have held out seeing you being hurt like that. I love you and if that's a liability that will get you hurt in the future then we have to stop this now." He ignored her strangled 'no'.

"You go back to 'agenting' somewhere else and I'll just do my thing here until things change. Bryce was right. This will get you killed, this attachment to me. It has to end, Sarah, I'm sorry." He pushed her back and gently replaced the gauze dressing and pulled her top closed as best he could.

"I'm so very sorry, Sarah," he whispered and got off the bed and left the room to find the conference center. He and the Hag needed to have a conversation.

He asked the nurse to contact General Beckman. She hemmed and hawed about the time difference but when her bright and shiny collection of metal-clad charts hit the wall, she hurried down to the conference center.

**Conference Center**

"Mr. Bartowski, what is it?" She took in the haggard look on his face and knew instantly that he'd reached the same conclusion as Agent Walker. She could save time by cutting off any of his ramblings but he surprised her by getting to the point without his usual delays.

"Walker has to go. I learned something today. Love is a liability in your cesspool. Maybe if we're both still alive when I get this thing out of my head we can pick up the pieces, but for now, she has to go." The way he'd said 'cesspool' made her wince and she wasn't certain she'd correctly heard what followed.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that? I'm not sure I understand what you're saying, Chuck."

He sat down, defeated. "I'm not sure I understand either, General. I'm not sure of anything anymore." He sat, head in hands, for a few seconds then shuddered and got up and walked out of the center, leaving a speechless Beckman in his wake. She replayed the tape of their conversation twice before she understood. She was wrong. He had _not_ echoed Walker's opinion, in fact, he'd reacted in a totally different manner. _She _did not want to leave _him_. _He_ wanted her to leave him.

"Casey, secure."

"General Beckman, Major. Go to the L. A Facility and pick up Agent Walker and Bartowski. Take them home, Major. And don't press the issue with them until further notice. John, just take them home. I'll speak with you later." Casey had never seen Beckman so…upset? Rattled?

Chuck walked back into his room and sat down on the bed beside Sarah. She turned her face away from him and so he picked up her hand and gently kissed her bruised wrist. She resisted the urge to grab him and never let him go. So this was goodbye?

"Let's go home, Sarah. Let's just…go home."

Casey picked them up and immediately felt the frost between them, or maybe it was because Karen had tagged along and tried to make conversation with them. They were almost to his apartment when Sarah started to cry. Chuck put his arms around her and held her and never said a word.

**Chuck & Sarah's Apartment  
****Burbank, CA**

Casey and Karen carried the bags and Chuck led Sarah to the apartment. He had trouble remembering just how to find it in the rabbit warren he'd rented. "It wasn't this hard in the daylight" he muttered. Casey forced a laugh but Karen just looked at the broken pair and nudged Casey and shook her head 'no'.

Finally finding the apartment, he opened the door and resisted the juvenile notion to carry Sarah across the threshold.

Ellie had definitely been there. There were the necessary small appliances and the table was set and even had a centerpiece. Sarah looked at Chuck and gave him a thin smile as if to say "she's _your_ sister."

Karen took Sarah and went immediately to the bathroom and Casey took the bags back to the bedroom. When he came out, Karen dragged him to the corner of the kitchen and basically summarized what had been done to them.

"Beckman…someday…" was all Casey could say. He was angry, disappointed, appalled and ashamed. They had done nothing to deserve such treatment. He'd noticed the powder burn on Chuck's face but hadn't mentioned it, figuring he'd be told when it was time to know.

Chuck thanked them for the ride and bluntly told them that he needed to spend some 'alone and unmonitored time' with Sarah. He also pinned the pair with his stare and asked them to skip any references in their report back to Beckman about Sarah's emotional breakdown.

Alone at last with his bodyguard/companion/girlfriend, he was at a loss what to do. She was still in the bathroom. Braving injury he knocked and then opened the door. Sarah was sitting on the closed commode with her face in her hands.

He started running the tub and picked her up and took her into the bedroom. He undressed and then carefully undressed her, picked her up and carried her into the bathroom. He'd dumped some smelly, girly oils that Ellie had obviously left into the tub and now the room smelled like vanilla – her scent.

He lit two candles and turned off the lights and got into the tub with her. She sighed and tightened her grip on him and then simply relaxed in the warmth of him and the water.

"I'm sorry, Chuck. I don't know why I'm so emotional all of a sudden. We should be tearing our bed apart having incredible sex and here I am, a basket case of nerves and emotions. I don't want you to be disappointed in me, baby. Just give me some time to adjust…"

"Sex was the farthest thing from my mind. I'm still trying to get a grasp on the whole testing thing. Why, why, why would they do that to us? To you? How far would it have gone if I hadn't taken the chance? How can you work with these people?"

"Shhh. Let's keep it Chuck & Sarah for tonight. I don't want to think about the Facility. I just want to be held and kissed and loved. It's been so long since I've felt so…loved. Isn't that hokey? But it's true, sweetheart. Let's put that damned experience behind us for now. Some day soon we'll drag it out and tear it apart but not now. It almost ruined us, Chuck. You wanted me gone, protected and out of your life. I know. I know how you think and how you protect the people in your life that you love. So for tonight, role reversal. Keep me safe and warm."

Chuck refilled the tub twice. Having long legs and near-prehensile toes made it easy. Sarah had drifted off to sleep and that was the whole point of the exercise.

Sometime during the night they made love for the first time. It was slow and tender and neither wanted it to end but it did in spectacular fashion. Around 6am Sarah slipped out of bed and made a phone call to her oldest and dearest friend, someone off the grid for the past year.

The phone rang before a breathless woman answered. 'Damn it, Sarah, this had better be good!"

The rest of the conversation went like this. At least, this is what Chuck heard when he woke up and found her side of the bed empty.

"Hey, yourself. I'm ready but I'm bringing a…husband. Send me the package and I'll try and be ready in 6 months. Yes, it's the real deal. No, he's not an agent. No, I'm not crazy. I'll confirm receipt of the package. Do you need anything? Good. I'll look for the package. I'm in L.A. Yes, husband. No, he doesn't know it yet. Yes, the clueless one. No, I won't screw it up."

She disconnected and went back to bed but not to sleep. She wanted another session with an equally spectacular ending. A long while later she lay in the circle of his arms, thoroughly loved, enjoying the afterglow she'd read about in other people's romance novels but didn't believe existed.

'_My God, if this is his 'sorry about that, but it's been a long week' performance, how will I ever survive a well-rested Chuck?' _

She didn't know but she vowed to find out. _Now comes the hard part. I've got six months to get us ready. Oh, my love, you're not going to know what hit you._

**Three days later  
****NSA Los Angeles**

Chuck sat in the car in the underground parking lot and looked over at his partner/bodyguard/companion and wondered again for the 10th time in 10 minutes why they were going back into this…building. He'd wanted nothing more than to pull the covers back over their heads when the alarm went off at 5:30am and just say 'we're taking a vacation day'.

She watched him out of the corner of her eye. She was…terrified that he'd see one of those agents who'd conducted their sessions. She knew he'd kill them, or die trying. She knew how he was. Her lovable nerd harbored unfathomable depths for forgiveness of trespasses against him, but Lord help the one who hurt one of those in his 'circle' because Chuck would have no mercy. There was a string of bodies testifying to that fact.

"Honey, we have to get to work. Come on, the sooner we're in there, the sooner we can check on assignments, you can do the dailies and we can go to Ellie's for some family time and dinner. Devon has the evening shift and she's invited us so let's go."

"Fine. But I don't have to like it. Now, where the hell is Casey? He's supposed to 'escort' us into the new digs?" Unconsciously he was fingering his 9mm in it's shoulder rig, the 'Napoleon Position' that Sarah teased him about, until she'd seen him try to kill himself on the recordings.

That's when she'd unconsciously made the decision to take them off the grid, the sooner the better. She knew he'd have done it for any of them without a second's hesitation and it terrified her to know the Team had such power over him.

Casey walked over from behind a pillar in the underground lot. His first instinct was to just march over to Chuck's window and rap on it but considering the place and circumstances he wisely opted to walk over in front of the Mustang and allow Chuck enough time to identify him as a 'friendly' and not push some secret button combination on the radio and transport him to the moon.

Sarah popped the locks and gave his hand a squeeze and whispered, "I love you, Chuck, now let's get going."

"Morning, Major Casey. Reporting as ordered. All present or accounted for." Sarcasm was wasted on Casey. He'd been prepared for worse. He'd been mulling over what had happened to Chuck and Sarah for the past 2 days and had yet to reconcile the actions of his Agency with any true need. He and Karen had discussed it in detail and decided to just ignore any digs from Chuck.

"OK, first surprise of the day. We're going down, not up. No one 'up there' has any knowledge of our operation. We're going to keep it that way, too" Casey commented when getting on the elevator. He asked them to watch closely as he entered his ID and pushed the 'B' button 4 times, waited a heartbeat and then pushed 'L'. The elevator lurched downward and Sarah's eyebrows went up.

"We're under the parking garage?" She'd never admit it but she was a little claustrophobic, not enough to tickle the meters on the Agency's monitors but enough so that she avoided 'tight underground spaces' if possible.

"Yep. There are two levels below the parking level. We have both of them. Privacy for each of us and a range, a mini-gym and also quarters for us if things upstairs get…unacceptable. Only Beckman and the Team know about it. Nothing is in the files. Nothing is on paper."

"Alternate exits?" Chuck asked knowing from her files that Sarah was claustrophobic and curious about how she handled the Castle.

"Two, actually. One is just a ladder up through the ceiling, sixty feet or so with a grate in the corner of the parking garage and the other is a foot tunnel that emerges in the parking garage of the building across the street."

"Good to know. Sarah, we'll want to make sure we know where they are and maybe use the one from the parking garage to park the Mustang or your Porsche. Make us less visible to anyone in this building we might have to work with."

"Yeah. I like that idea. Especially parking across the street. Good idea, sweetie."

They said good morning to Karen and found the coffee and while Karen took Sarah on a tour, Chuck pulled up the intel dailies. He worked through lunch, sent a couple of items to Analysis by email and was done by 2:30pm and decided that he'd had a 'full day' of nothing exciting and went to find his bodyguard.

Sarah was in the gym working against the bag, kicking and punching and generally knocking the crap out of it. He admired the way her muscles rippled in her legs when she cocked a leg to deliver a spinning round kick. He could watch her for hours and never tire of it.

"Hey, you need to work out a bit daily, Chuck. Won't hurt you to learn some basic defense moves and rebuild your scrawny frame to its previous level of scrawniness." Casey loved pulling his chain. More so lately than before. In the early months his burning secret and sometimes not so secret desire was to kill Chuck Bartowski, efficiently, effectively and, on dark days, several times over. But no more.

"Sorry, Casey, but all I have is this suit, no workout duds. I'll bring sweats tomorrow. I'm sure Sarah will enjoy watching me sweat."

"Ugh, Chuck, TMI. Just bring them. We really need to work on some stuff. You won't always have a gun or that rice cutter around. Sometimes all you have are your mitts and from what I've seen, you'd end up slap-fighting them. Come to think of it, that's a pretty good defense. They'd laugh themselves to death. Tomorrow, Chuck, without fail, tomorrow."

Sarah walked over and kissed him quickly and then grabbed a bottle of water and drained it. "Anything interesting in the dailies?" She was bored. Kicking the crap out of a bag was fun but boring. It didn't fight back.

"Naw. I sent a couple items over to Analysis. Not on our Coast. Remind me to bring sweats over. Casey wants to start me on some defense moves. He says I'm losing my scrawniness to real scrawniness. I guess I better start back on my high protein and carb diet. Lately I just haven't felt like eating though."

Sarah was instantly concerned. Had the blood problem come back? "Chuck, are you sick? Have you been feeling off?"

"No, I've been too busy satisfying the lusty needs of my girlfriend to worry about eating. And since neither of us cook, I have to depend upon the kindness of strangers or family for food." He loved teasing her about her only area of weakness – cooking.

She leaned over and whispered, "Well, maybe she should cut you off until you're up to…sexing weight…do you think?"

"Um, Sarah, you're not serious about…I mean, well, I guess I can…"

She kissed him, forcing her tongue between his lips and then sucking his into her mouth. After a while, "I was just kidding. I've waited two long years and I'm not about to do without now that I have such a fine young stud in my bed. I'll just feed you between rounds. Now, I'm going to shower and you're going to wait patiently for me and then we're going to Ellie's. And you will eat seconds on everything, Mr. Bartowski."

"Oh, the things I do for love…" He smiled and then pushed her toward the shower. "Go. You sweat hog. You stink." She didn't. She smelled like…sex. God, he had it bad. Husband? Six months? Oh, yeah, he had it bad.

A/N: Just 2 more chapters. Who is the 'dearest friend'? Why did she fall off the grid? Husband implies…'wedding'. Wonder if his dream will come true…Beckman in white…[shudder]

10/09


	26. It's in Her Blood

T/N: Found another one. It seems to flow from the last one Ihope. NF

* * *

Keeping Chuck in the van was no longer a problem. Keeping Sarah in the van was.

**Two Months Later  
Suspected Fulcrum Data Storage Site  
Hot Springs, AR**

"Damn it, Walker. You're not supposed to leave the van. What part of 'bodyguard' don't you understand?" Karen Fisher was livid. This made the third or fourth time that she'd left Chuck 'unattended' in a van or commo unit and come 'out to play with the agents'. Chuck just played with his monitors although he was angry at her, but wouldn't make a public issue of it. He was going to have to have a long talk with her. Casey was less forgiving.

"Walker, if anything happens to Chuck while you're out 'saving the Team' when we don't really need it, I will personally kick your ass until you beg for mercy. I'm going to install locking seat belts and I'll be the only one with the key. Bartowski's learned his lesson. When will you?"

Casey and Fisher had infiltrated a Fulcrum storage facility only to discover that the spotty intel was wrong. It was a training and conditioning hive for new recruits. They were trying to withdraw under fire when Chuck heard Casey casually mention he was running low on ammo. He started to leave the van with a bag of magazines when Sarah slammed him back down into his seat, kissed him and grabbed the bag and ran out of the van.

"Well, Chuck was on his way but I stopped him. He heard you say you were low on ammo and you know he'd have to do something to help. I'm it. Here, take what you need and give Casey the rest." She popped up from behind the shipping crate and fired a burst at the source of the incoming fire. She was in her element. She was an adrenalin junkie and she'd needed a fix.

The Team successfully disengaged and ran back to the van. Chuck was sitting in his seat, watching the monitors seemingly without a care in the world. Karen noticed his bouncing leg – a sure sign of nervous anger – and nodded to Casey to get moving. They'd dump the van at NSA Little Rock and report back to Beckman. This was a job for a strike force, not a small action team. They'd fly back to Los Angeles the next day unless Beckman had more work for them.

"Well, Mr. Intersect, that wasn't a data storage center at all. What happened to the flash data?" Casey wasn't angry, just thorough. He wanted to be able to explain what they found versus what they'd expected.

"All I did was track the flow of traffic, not people. There was no mention of staffing anywhere and things like the consumption of electricity and water did not indicate the site was staffed as heavily as we found. Some one diddled with the utility records. They must have figured out how we were pinpointing hives versus offices and nodes. It was only a matter of time. They're traitors, Casey, not stupid."

No one said much after that until Sarah asked the others what they thought about slipping up to Vegas on the way back and taking in some shows and hitting the blackjack tables. She knew Casey couldn't pass up blackjack and she wanted some sophisticated down time with Chuck. Just Chuck & Sarah time. And it would provide her with the opportunity to plan another step in the 'wedding plot'.

"Let's see if we have a new assignment. I'll OK it with Beckman if we don't. Let's get this debriefing out of the way before we worry about hitting the strip." Casey could feel the $25 chips in his fingers. Yeah, Vegas would be a nice rest stop. He could keep an eye on the 'bodyguard' and make sure she wasn't hatching some plot involving altars, bouquets and a nerd. Someone had to look out for his best interests.

**NSA Little Rock  
Conference Room  
Debriefing**

"So, Mr. Bartowski, you're suggesting that Fulcrum has figured out your little utility usage trick? Well, I suppose it was just a matter of time until one of their smarter people figured out how we were taking out hives and nodes. We'll just have to continue on as before until someone…" She looked pointedly at Chuck before continuing. "Until someone comes up with a new method of identification. And congratulations, Mr. Bartowski, Major Casey reports that you haven't left the van once since being partnered with Ms. Walker. Very good."

"I have nothing further. Take the rest of the week off and we'll conference again on Monday. Good job as usual, Team Intersect." She disconnected.

"Well, I guess Vegas is on, Sarah. I'll see about getting reservations and we'll leave as soon as Shorts gets the plane reservations changed." He'd adopted Chuck's nickname for Karen. While she tolerated Chuck using it, she always had a smart-assed comment when Casey did. Maybe it was because Chuck had always called her that in private and personal moments whereas Casey just substituted it for 'Karen'.

"Sure, the short secretary will handle it all. Sarah, give me your tickets and I'll get it done. And _I'LL_ be the one getting the room reservations, Major Casey. Three rooms, right?" She stuck in the knife and twisted it. "And Sarah, you and Chuck will want a Jacuzzi, right?" Karen knew Casey loved his Jacuzzi and what it could do to her.

"OK, OK, geez, you're like a little shrew sometimes, a really little shrew with such big teeth."

Sarah noticed that Chuck displayed none of his usual post-briefing snarking at anything Beckman said and put her arm through his and whispered, "A Jacuzzi and Vegas. Does it give you any ideas?"

"No, nothing comes to mind. If you guys want to go to Vegas, I'm cool with that. Casey will lose money – again. Karen will get wild and wrinkled – again. And me? I'll just wander around seeing if I can flash on someone you can kill or maim. The usual."

He got up and walked out of the conference room and went looking for the tech section. He had some ideas he wanted to bounce off the local intersect staffers. And he wanted some distance from his ex-handler/cover girlfriend and bodyguard.

"Uh oh, someone needs his nap. You keep him up too late last night, Sarah?" Casey loved to tease Sarah about Chuck, anything at all really, but Chuck provided a 'target-rich environment'.

"No, John, we went to bed early enough that he still managed a full night's sleep, something you'll be able to catch up on in Vegas since you won't be bothered by Karen nagging you to take her to a show."

"Stop it, you two. He's pissed about something and I think it's because you hared out of the van and put yourself in danger again, Sarah. He's been real good about 'staying in the van' and you've just been chomping at the bit to get back in the show. You can't have both, Sarah. I saw how he was when you got back in the van. He was mad as hell."

"He only stayed in the van because I pushed him back down into his seat and did what he was going to do, which, by the way, saved your collective asses. Does 'I'm running low on ammo' ring a bell?"

"Sarah, if it had just been you and Casey out there in the old days Chuck would have brought you ammo. If it had been you and Casey in the hive and me and Chuck in the van, you'd probably have died because I wouldn't have left his side for anything. Sarah, you're either a bodyguard or an operative. You can't be both, sweetie, and you know it. He needs 24/7 not when it's convenient."

Sarah had the decency to blush and acknowledge the rebuke. Fisher was right. She was getting as bad as Chuck. She wanted back in the action, he'd wanted to help his team. She was wrong for all the wrong reasons. He was wrong for the right reason. She'd let him down.

"I'll go talk to him, apologize. Hell, it's in my blood. I'll work on it, I promise. He doesn't need this hassle right now." She went off to find her boyfriend and make amends.

"You know, Karen, this is hard to watch. He's going to either have to cut her loose or tame her. And I don't think she can be tamed. She's an agent, an operative at heart, it's in her blood, and she'll fail him at a critical time and he'll be dead, hurt or captured. I don't think this is going to have a happy ending."

"Johnny, we'll just have to watch over those two. He's so gone on her and she'd die on the spot if anything were to happen to him. You know what Beckman told us in the off-the-record debriefing we got after we picked them up. He would have committed suicide to save her pain. And she wanted permission to marry and he wanted her reassigned because she was a liability they'd hurt to get him to talk. They're devoted to one another in a dysfunctional way. If I were her I'd take him off the grid and say fuck the 'greater good'."

"Walker's too much the professional to do that. Besides, where would they go? No, I trust Sarah to do what's right and stay the course."

'_Johnny, my love, you're such a traditionalist. She's probably already got a place, backup, money and transportation already planned out. I give her six months, max. If Chuck and I were still together I'd have left after the 'testing' and never looked back.'_

Sarah found Chuck chatting with the intersect techs. His face was so animated and his hands were flying as he described some technical item that would have left her with glazed-over eyes. He was so brilliant that sometimes he forgot the rest of the world was running on stupid by comparison. She always felt intellectually inferior to him and she made up for it with professionalism. Well, until today, and the last time, and the time before.

When Chuck walked back into the hallway and saw Sarah his expression became different. Gone was the grinning geek and back was the intersect host, apparently a still-angry host.

"You guys plan the Vegas trip? Everything on go?" He was trying to ignore his anger and he knew she would see right through it and go on the offensive. It was what she knew how to do, did well, and did often. Only instead of an enemy agent it was her boyfriend she would be assaulting. He mentally prepared himself for an argument.

"I'm sorry, OK? I got caught up in the heat of the moment. The Team was in trouble and you were going to help them. I went in your place. You are too precious to me to…" And there came the tears, right on schedule. He was getting pretty good at figuring things out. In two months she'd used tears twice to defuse situations and this made the third time.

He took her in his arms and whispered, "Stop the tears, Sarah. You know why I'm pissed and they're not going to work. We need to talk about this. You know how I feel about you putting yourself out there. If we can't 'not get caught up in the moment' then we're going to have to reevaluate our relationship. I was wrong to try and go to their aid and you were wrong to take my place. It's not your job any longer, Sarah. I'm your job. Or I'm not. Take some time, sweetheart, and decide, understand?"

She buried her face against his jacket and nodded. She knew he was right and she knew she was wrong. The tears, the tears were real. She was afraid she'd pushed too hard, tried to expand the envelope and now he'd thrown down the gauntlet. 'Choose,' he'd said in so many words. _I'm your job or I'm not._

"I love you, Chuck".

"And I love you. And that's the problem, isn't it, Sarah? It's just not enough for you."

"Baby, please. Let's talk about this tonight. I won't discuss it when you're angry. We'll just say something to hurt each other."

"Fine. I'm going to have to sit through a download and I know how much you enjoy that so go back to the hotel and I'll be around as soon as this is done. Take a nap or something. Whatever you used to do after a mission in the old days with Bryce or whomever. I'll be back as soon as it's done."

He turned and walked back into the intersect office to arrange for a download refresher. He didn't see the look on her face or he'd have stopped and gone back to the hotel with her. He didn't see the hurt or the flicker of determination.

A/N: Y'all only have to wade through one more chapter, maybe two. Enjoy it or don't enjoy it. I don't care.


	27. What Happens in Vegas Forces a Choice

thelaststrawFinal1b

T/N: found another one. it flows I think. NF

* * *

**Karen & Casey's Hotel Room **

She pounded on Karen's hotel room door. She didn't care that she might be asleep or even 'doing it' with Casey. She needed to talk, she needed another woman's opinion and Ellie was working and besides she'd just take Chuck's side anyway and she needed someone in her corner.

Casey answered the door, fully clothed. "Take a walk, John. I need to talk to Karen for a bit. Go. Please. I need to talk to her." Uh oh, Bartowski must have lowered the boom. Red eyes, sniffling. Run, John, run.

"Sure. She's surfing the net for shows to see in Vegas. I'll just wander down to the lobby and check out the cigars."

"So, Sarah, what's up with the red eyes? You and Chuck have a fight or something?"

"Or something. I need to know how you and Casey handled things back when you were married. Karen, please, I'm losing him. He gave me an ultimatum today. He told me to decide. He said either he was my job or he wasn't and to decide. He said his love wasn't enough for me."

"Ouch. He's mastered getting right to the point, hasn't he? Well, he's right. Either being his bodyguard is your job or it isn't. That's pretty damned simple and straightforward. You didn't see him when we got back in the van. He was 'greatly vexed', as the old saying goes. He was pissed off beyond belief. And worried. He has a tell. His leg bounces when he's really angry with someone he cares about. And he cares about you and he's angry with you."

"I don't know what to do. He's all I've ever wanted and now that I have him, it's just…"

"Not enough?" Karen finished her sentence, or thought she did.

"No, it's not enough to have him as my companion and lover, it's just not enough. I want him as my husband, the father to our children. I want out. I want us out."

"I told Casey you'd fall off the grid. I'd have already done it. I'd never have made it to Chuck's apartment, Sarah. We'd have been gone the second we got out of that damned building."

"I wasn't prepared. I hadn't given it a moment's thought until he came along and then there was never time. Hell, Chuck was better prepared after the Mustang deal than I was two months ago."

"Casey and I never talked about leaving the service. We talked about how we could make our marriage work within the confines of the job but then I…I got pregnant and we were on an op and I took a chance and I got hurt and lost the baby and all the future babies. I went dark for a long time. I hurt him many times for just being alive and healthy and finally it killed the marriage. I didn't care any more and I volunteered for every high-risk mission to end it. And I almost did."

Sarah stared at the smaller agent, unmindful of the tears on her own face. It could have been her, once upon a time. She'd been so lucky.

"Sarah, I'll tell you right now to your face. If Johnny hadn't been on your team, I'd have dragged Chuck to the altar eventually and then off the grid. You have such an opportunity for happiness with a wonderful man and you're thinking about throwing it all away and going back to being an agent. I know how you think. We're a lot alike. We crave the adrenalin rush and the brief feeling of success after an op. But you go home to any empty apartment and bed. Is that what you want?"

"No. I want what I have now. I'll find a way to 'stay in the van'. I don't want to lose what I've been looking for my whole life but never knew about. Now, what help can you give me in planning a bug-out if we need to? I trust you because Chuck does."

They spent another hour talking about options, resources but Sarah never told her about her package that was still waiting for them in L.A. She didn't trust her _that _much.

It was nearly 10pm before she got back to their room. It was dark and Chuck had left a note telling her he'd gone to bed and that there was pizza without olives in the kitchenette frig.

She didn't want pizza. She wanted Chuck, all warm and sleepy, and she'd be satisfied with that.

**Las Vegas NV  
****Luxor Hotel Casino**

Their plane touched down at 11am and since they couldn't check into their rooms until 3pm they decided to just wander around through the casino and see what was hot and what wasn't. Chuck wasn't really big on casino gambling since his Stanford days when he and Bryce and two girls from UC Santa Clara spent a weekend running the Blackjack tables at the old Sands. It wasn't hard for Chuck to count cards on a 2-deck shoe and they'd cleaned up. Since then he'd lost the knack for card counting. He didn't know why but it was gone.

Sarah wanted to check out the shows and the slots. His little bodyguard was almost clinically addicted to the slots so she played the nickel machines and was quite happy. Chuck sat beside her and made 'cheerleader' comments when things were good and showed her sympathy when they were running against her. He had the sympathy routine down pat.

"Arden, Arden Bosworth? Is it really you, Arden?" A middle-aged man with a nasty scar across his chin was standing beside her, staring and waiting for an answer. Chuck flashed on him as a Fulcrum turncoat named Donald Allen who was of little value. He ignored Sarah, standing up and punching out his winnings and walking to the next bay of machines. He pulled out his cell and reported his flash to Casey.

"I'll run this up the pipe and see if we have instructions. Stay away and observe, Chuck. Do not approach him and let Sarah handle the situation. He obviously knows her from somewhere."

"Yeah, he does. They were on a joint taskforce after 9-11. He ran the 2nd level Middle East desk at Langley. He knows she's an agent, Casey. We just can't ignore this."

"Yes, Chuck, we can. We wait for orders. I'm sending Karen over to sit with you. Keep an eye on Walker but do not engage or approach, understand? Chuck, I'm sorry but this is a 'stay in the van' situation. Walker's an experienced agent. She'll handle it."

"Fine. But nothing better happen to her, understand? And where's Karen?"

"Calm down, Chuck. Karen's on her way. Just keep them in view and do nothing else."

Karen walked up behind Chuck and put her arms around him and kissed his ear while whispering, "OK, here's what we're going to do, sweetie. I'm your girlfriend and we're going to walk right past them and out the door. Once you're clear, I'll double back and set up an over watch. Nothing will happen to her, Chuck. Just do what I asked, please. I'm sending you to the airport. Meet us at the Horizon Lounge. We're going back to L.A."

Chuck stood up and put his arm around her and together they walked out of the Casino. She hailed a cab and told the cabbie to take him to the airport and turned and went back into the casino. They couldn't stay here now. In fact, the prudent thing to do was to head back to L.A.

Chuck was furious for being isolated while Sarah was in possible jeopardy. He knew Karen had done the right thing but he still didn't have to like it. In fact, he hated it. He told the cab driver to pull over at the next casino and let him out. He shoved $20 for a $5 fare through the slot and got out.

Sarah stared at Donald Allen. Of all the luck. "Actually, it's Jenna, Jenna Hollis and you are?" Hopefully this dirt bag would think he'd made a mistake and then the FBI could scoop him up without involving the Team.

"On the job, Jenna? An assignment?"

"No. Vacation. And of all the luck, I had to run into someone who knows my name. So much for pretending I'm just an ordinary person out for a few days of fun. You working?"

"Yeah. I'm…recruiting for a private intelligence service. The money is great, the benefits are paid in cash and there're no tax problems. We do a lot of domestic work, nothing wet, just…intel gathering. You still so high on the Company?"

"Not as much as when I was younger. My assignments are boring and mostly international. My partner when rogue and some NSA prick capped him, so no, I'm not so high any more. In fact, I'd say the firm is downright low." She hoped to learn additional info and pass it on to the Team for Chuck to analyze.

"I'm here alone and you?"

"No, but he's not really important to me, just someone to pick up the tab, if you get my drift."

"Good. So, why don't I meet you here at 8 and we'll go to dinner and see what our discussion yields."

"You never gave me your cover name. I don't want to piss in the soup."

"Barry, Barry Jansen. I'm staying here. Informal dinner or something more…elegant?"

"Informal. I've had enough of embassy dinners. Less to take off at the end of the evening."

"I'll see you then. I have a few interviews. Don't be late, Jenna."

He turned and walked away. Sarah breathed a sigh of relief and started looking for Chuck. Karen sat down two seats away and put in a $20 bill and starting pushing buttons and waiting. Sarah cashed out and moved over a seat.

"Where's Chuck, Karen? He just got up and walked away. Where is he?"

"In a cab on his way to the airport. Figured that was the safest place for him. What's with the slime bag?"

"He's someone I knew back in Langley when I worked a taskforce after 9-11. He's a Fulcrum recruiter and has several interviews. We're going to dinner at 8."

Casey slipped into the seat on her other side.

"No, Walker, you're not. You're going to the airport, find Chuck and fly to L.A. The FBI is on their way to pick up the scumbag and we've alerted hotel security of a possible rogue con operation so the Fibbies will have the tapes and forward them to us. We'll be along either later tonight or first thing in the morning."

"Casey, here's a chance to develop a source within Fulcrum's recruiting operation. All I have to do is have dinner and maybe a little make out session and we're in. He'll try and recruit me. This is too good a chance to pass up."

Karen grabbed her arm and forced her to look at her. "Your job is to protect Chuck, not spread your legs for a chance to infiltrate Fulcrum. It's not your job and it shouldn't be you who'd do it anyway. How do you think Chuck would handle it? My God, remember our conversation last night. You are an incredible piece of work, Walker."

Karen stood up and glared at Sarah then said to Casey, "I'll go find Chuck and meet you two at the airport. Horizon Lounge. Don't dawdle. Bring the bags, Johnny, will you please?"

Karen made her way through the crowd and out the door, not noticing that Chuck had been observing the whole thing. He'd moved closer and was sitting opposite them only a row apart. If the slot machines suddenly disappeared he'd be staring right at Sarah Walker. He'd heard everything.

"Well, Sarah, I'd say you made your choice about your job. Do you want to request reassignment or should I just ask Beckman to get you as far away from Chuck as possible without leaving the planet? Either way I want your ass out of his life tonight."

"I want to talk with Chuck first. OK? At least give me that, Casey."

"Four hours, Walker, that's all. You better make the most of them. I can't believe after all he's sacrificed, after he was willing to kill himself to protect you from further pain and harm, that you'd shit on him for the fucking job. Did you ever really love him or were you playing us all to get ahead? Four hours. Not one second more. And I will tell Chuck everything if you don't. And I'll know if you tell him because Karen and I will have to either pick up the pieces or pick out a casket."

He got up to retrieve their bags from the concierge and get a cab to the airport. He was so angry with Walker that he didn't trust himself to speak to her any longer. She'd betrayed Chuck in the worst possible way – on a personal level. If Beckman gave the nod he wouldn't hesitate to shoot her, he was that mad.

She steeled her features and walked out and hailed a cab for the airport. She'd made her choice.

Chuck watched her leave. He was a fool for ever thinking he'd be enough. She was an operative. A field agent. She'd never change.


	28. Sarah get Hammered

Thelaststraw1a

**Las Vegas Airport  
****Horizon Lounge**

Karen Fisher was worried. She hadn't been able to find Chuck and Sarah was sitting at the bar getting quietly tanked and Casey was making noises about calling Beckman and getting a team tasked from NSA Las Vegas to find their missing asset. It had been two hours since she'd put Chuck in the cab. He wasn't even responding to his airport pages. She'd been calling his cell phone every 10 or 15 minutes and it went to voice mail every damned time.

Sarah stood up and turned to Karen and Casey sitting at one of those little café tables. She was drunk but not noticeably so. Agent training.

"I want to get married. Tonight. We'll fly to Reno and then all this crap about shitting on my man will be put to rest. I've made my mind up and I'm not going to change it so, damn it, where's my boyfriend, Karen? You put him in a cab alone, without protection in LAS VEGAS? Don't you fucking watch TV? This is Crimetown USA. You think they picked Vegas for CSI because of the lighting? No. Because there's murders and kidnappings and all kinds of shit and my baby is out there alone in Sin City, without me by his side, on his lap, in his pants, whatever."

OK, so maybe it was noticeable. But at least she wasn't shouting.

Casey looked at Karen who just grinned. Another bullet dodged. Now if they could just find the missing boyfriend before Walker passed out, they could fly to Reno, have the wedding, spend a few days on the Strip and then go to L.A. _In Vino, Veritas_ – In Wine, Truth. She'd made up her mind and made the right choice in Karen's mind.

Sarah took out her cell phone and speed dialed Chuck. The message she left was classic hammered Walker.

"Chuck, I just wanted to let you know that we're flying, yes, we're all flying, all being me and you and Shorts and Major Pain-in-the-Ass, yes, we're flying to Reno for a wedding. I'm getting married. And if you're not there, I'll marry the dwarf guy from Fantasy Island who lives in Reno. He's even shorter than your short-time girlfriend, Karen. Or I'll marry Casey. Which ever is worse. Please, sweetie, I want to marry you, not Tattoo or Major PITA. I will not spread my legs for anyone but you. We're at the Horizon Room, baby, and I need you. Please, Chuck?"

Karen looked at Casey, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Just how close a partnership did you and Walker have, Major Casey?"

"Karen, she's drunk, 3 sheets to the wind, hammered, snockered. Besides, she's CIA, or was, and I do have my standards."

**Downtown Las Vegas**

Chuck had the cab driver pull over in front of yet another pawnshop and wait for him. He went in and spied exactly what he needed, paid $400 for it, and had it wrapped in brown paper. Getting back in the cab, he told the driver to find him a florist shop.

**Luxor Hotel  
****Las Vegas**

His last stop was the Luxor. He'd seen enough to know that Barry Jansen was both the recruiter for Fulcrum and an obstacle. He went to the desk and told the clerk that he had an appointment with Mr. Jansen and had been waiting over an hour for him in the bar and would they please give him the room number so he could call and confirm the appointment? He'd flown all the way from L.A. for the interview.

He saw the clerk dial the room extension, 8211, and he told her to never mind since he saw Mr. Jansen just entering the elevator. He got the next elevator car and called Casey. He wanted John to know and understand.

"Casey secure. Where the fuck are you, Bartowski?"

"I have something to do, John. I was sitting near the three of you and I heard it all. Thanks for sticking up for me, Casey. And thanks for everything else I never thanked you for. I figure there are a few thousand things you've done to cover my ass that I never knew about, so thanks, John."

"Chuck, where are you? We're waiting here to fly to Reno for your wedding, moron. Sarah announced to the whole bar she was getting married today to someone. Listen to your voicemail, idiot, and get your ass in a cab."

Wedding in Reno, then a year or two at the most, a quickie divorce in Reno when she realized how bored she was, how empty her life had become, how dreary and mundane. She was an operative. An agent. A field agent. She'd never settle down, do the wife/mother thing. It wasn't in her blood. His wild and untamed Sarah Walker could never be…_domesticated_.

Karen was tracking his GPS and looked at the app overlay. Oh, shit. She mouthed 'Luxor Hotel' to Casey.

"Chuck, don't do it. She's picked you. You're her job."

"Marry Karen, John. The Mustang's your wedding present. Just remember 1-3-3-1 or you'll die. See you on the other side." He hung up, satisfied that all his debts were paid. All but one.

He got off the 8th floor and started checking room numbers. When he got to 8211, he removed his pawnshop purchase from the flower box and knocked on the door.

He heard voices suddenly stop speaking and someone came to the door and asked who it was without opening the door.

"Concierge. I have a package for Mr. Barry Jansen. It requires a signature, sir. I can't leave it against the door, sir."

A man opened the door and Chuck flashed on a CIA agent who had been report 'missing presumed dead' in Turkey three months ago. The other man in the room was Jansen.

"Gimme the package. I'll sign for it."

"I need to see some ID, sir. It's a restricted delivery and I have to follow hotel policy."

"For flowers? You're kidding?" He turned to say something to Jansen but Chuck pushed him into the room and down on the floor. He threw the empty flower box on the floor and stepped into the room and closed the door. His Beast was loose.

Jansen had a drink in one hand and a cigar in the other. His silencer-equipped pistol was on the table and there was no way he could reach for it without telegraphing his move. Apparently if you messed up the interview he killed you. Chuck thought that was funny and laughed.

Jansen's eyes bugged out when he saw Chuck's purchase and heard his laugh. "Who the fuck are you? CIA? NSA?" His eyes were bugging out of his head in fear. He saved Chuck's life by looking down at the man on the floor.

Chuck whirled and sliced just as the silenced pistol discharged and then fell to the floor clutched in an armless hand. Another stroke and he turned back to Jansen who'd picked up his own pistol and fired. He grunted with the impact and then rushed at the terrified traitor who raised his pistol to fire again and lost his head for his trouble.

Now there would be no dinner date, no intel gathering, no legs spreading.

He wiped the blade of his pawned and battered old katana on the bedspread and then put the sword back in the box and under the bed. Chuck went into the bathroom, took a clean washcloth and folded it and stuffed it under his suit coat to sop up the blood flow. He didn't want to draw attention to himself before he was out of the hotel. He left the room. He didn't care what the security cameras revealed. He figured the NSA would have a cleaner team here within minutes of his call.

"Casey, secure. Are you on the way?"

"No. Yes. I - I need a cleaner team at the Luxor, room 8211. Two bodies, documents, weapons and…stuff. Tell them to look under the bed. The Mustang's still yours, Casey." He disconnected and took the elevator down to the lobby and listened to his voicemails on the way to pass the time and take his mind off the burning in his shoulder and arm. He blew through Karen's but stopped and listened intently to Sarah's. He laughed until the pain got too bad to laugh so he just smiled and wondered how many drinks she'd had to get that hammered. He leaned against the elevator wall and chuckled listening to her voicemail again.

The elevator stopped in the lobby and the doors opened up and Chuck found himself face-to-face with Karen Fisher. She stepped into the car and pushed Chuck hard against the back of the elevator and then pushed the button for the 2nd floor.

She pulled the emergency stop button and then laid into Chuck. After zoning out from pain and catching about every fifth word of what was sure to have been a classic ass-chewing he held up his hand and fumbled with his cell phone. "Wait, I got to make a call." She stared at him in disbelief.

He hit speed dial #1. And put it on speaker because he wasn't sure how long he could hold the suddenly very heavy cell phone.

"Chuck, where are you? You're supposed to be at the airport! What part of 'Go to the airport, Chuck!' did you not understand? Karen gave you instructions and you hared off again without me or any protection. I'm going to kill you after we're married. At least then I'll get your damned insurance."

"I won't marry you tonight, and certainly not in Reno. People go there for quickie divorces. Nope. And I won't marry someone who's drunk. Tomorrow, when you've sobered up, then we'll talk. Now, you and Casey check us four into the hotel and then…" He was suddenly tired. It hit him all at once. He hung up on Sarah, his eyes unfocused for a moment.

"Karen, no hospital. No way. Just have NSA send a doctor over with some 5-0 silk and some band aids. No hospital, Karen, please. Man, I am so tired."

He slid down the wall and was sitting down looking up at her. "We made a nice couple, Shorts. Another time, another place, who knows? I really did lov…" He sighed and passed out. He was such a wuss.

She pulled out the emergency stop button and then pushed the lobby button. She had no idea how they were going to clean up this mess. Beckman was going to have a cow.

**Quik-Care Medical Services  
****Las Vegas, NV**

John Casey was pacing the corridor outside the treatment room at an out-of-the-way medical care facility that had an approved NSA physician. He'd just had a painful conversation with General Beckman regarding the future of Team Intersect and its staff. The most memorable were 'incompetent', 'South Pole' and the always chilling 'transfer to the CIA'. As soon as he was sure Bartowski was going to live, he was going to kill him.

Karen sat with a sniffling and still slightly drunk Sarah Walker in the small waiting area drinking strong black coffee. Karen was going over the comment Chuck made in the elevator. It had hit her very hard. It sounded like something that would be said in one of Ellie's chick flicks. A nice couple. Another time and place. Yeah, but it wasn't another time. It was now. But she did have Johnny. She didn't want to think about how he'd have finished his sentence.

She'd checked them into two rooms at the Luxor. Each had a Jacuzzi. She figured it was the least they could do since Beckman was probably going to send the four of them to different corners of the earth and Chuck's would be underground. God, what a mess.

The doctor was 'tsk-tsking' over Chuck's obvious fear of needles as he threaded another stitch through the tissue surrounding the furrow that a 9mm had carved in his shoulder cap. "Agent, just another three or four and we'll be done and then you can be on about your business of spreading fear and mayhem among the hearts of decent gamblers in our fair city." He'd seen a news flash about an apparent gangland killing at the Luxor. Sword-wielding Yakuza from Japan were apparently settling old scores.

His cell chirped and he glanced at the doctor who nodded and he took the call.

"Bartowski, secure. Ouch, damn it, don't you people sharpen your needles?"

"I told him to use blunt ones, Mr. Bartowski, thick, blunt needles. What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Bartowski? Your Team obviously is a complete clusterfuck and you… you… Words fail me."

"General, it had to be done. Besides, it forced Agent Walker to choose. Either way the greater good was served and that's the whole purpose of this, wasn't it? Keeping the unknowing from knowing? Surely this can be overlooked, General? Perhaps a wedding present?"

"What?! Wedding. Oh, no. Oh, no. Not you and Walker? TWO Bartowskis? Well, I suppose this one time, this one last final time, but never again. The next time I'll throw your butt in the deepest, darkest…"

"Thanks, Diane. We'll send you pictures. Bartowski and _**her**_ Dog. That's what you wanted, wasn't it? A new Dog? Well, now you have two for the price of one. Plus one is – computerized." He laughed as he imagined the look on Beckman's face. Sometimes the Spymaster was so obvious and transparent. The missions for Team Intersect were about to change.

"You're welcome. Just don't use a sword next time. It makes clean up difficult." He could hear the smile in her voice.

"Hey, I didn't have a pistol and I had no way around the 3-day waiting period. It wasn't my first option. And anyways, you got two bad guys off the books and enough intel to keep your personnel weenies busy so it was a win-win situation. I really have to go, General, I think I'm…"

"Hello, General Beckman, ma'am, your agent has fainted. No ma'am, fainted, not passed out. I think the needles finally got to him."

A/N: The tripe ride is almost over. Only one chapter left I think. Trying to break them at 2200 or so but not always possible for continuity. Normally I just write one massive missive and then go back and separate. Saves me editing. Read carefully.


	29. Taking Secrets to the Grave

Thelaststrawepi3

I think this is the net to the last one. I hope so. I found another series and I read it and liked it and added some hot sex but I'm not putting up with the crap so if he doesn't post it, it'll rot on his damned hard drive. All day seminar tomorrow and HE's supposed to get in tonite. wwoohoo Nf

Quik-Care Medical Services  
Las Vegas, NV

Since his patient was finally quiet and unmoving the doctor quickly finished his suturing in peace and applied a gauze dressing and a bandage. Agents like this one were rare but the money was good and he really didn't mind. Sometimes he picked up the most interesting tales. He'd tell his wife about this one. It made the news and filled in the blanks. 'Don't use a sword?' Who was this guy, The Highlander? Whoever he was he was real. He bled and had scars and obviously had had extensive blood work. He toyed with running a test but dismissed it. It wasn't required and he wouldn't be reimbursed.

The doctor walked out into the hallway and handed Casey a clipboard with forms for his signature.

"How's the hero, Doc?"

"Well, he passed out when he was talking with a general. I'll get some salts and he'll be out of here in five minutes."

'…talking with a general'? Beckman. Oh, crap. What did the moron tell her? Did he threaten her? This could not be good, not at all.

Karen and Sarah helped Chuck on with his shirt and suit coat. Chuck vetoed the idea of a sling saying he wasn't going to have his picture taken for posterity looking like he fell down or something.

Karen and Sarah exchanged hopeful glances. Maybe wedding bells after all?

When Chuck finally emerged from the treatment room Casey took him by the arm and pulled him down towards the end of the corridor. From the look on Chuck's face, he'd grabbed the wrong arm.

"Sorry, but I have to know what you and Beckman discussed. We're in trouble here, deep trouble. She's talking about busting up the team and shipping us off to God knows where and she's promised to send you down the hole."

"Call her on the phone, please. I'll clear this up in a few minutes. And put it on speaker. I don't feel well enough to go over this again and again, OK?"

"Beckman, Major Casey, what the hell is it this time? Have you lost my asset again?"

"General, Chuck. I'm sorry I was rudely forgetful earlier. Would you please accept our invitation to our wedding? It would thrill Sarah to no end and I'd appreciate a friendly face in the crowd. Scared to death of this. Rather face you on a bad hair day than get married."

The General laughed and Casey turned white as a sheet convinced that Judgment Day was upon them and he was unprepared.

"I'd love to. Have Casey pick me up at the airport tomorrow at 10am. I already booked a flight. Goodbye, Chuck, and try to eat something. It will help with the nerves."

Casey turned on his heel and practically ran down the corridor and grabbed the doctor. "What did you give him? What is he on? And what did he say to the General?"

"Doctor-patient confidentiality, Major Casey. I can't discuss it. Perhaps Agent Bar – Barto…hell, perhaps Agent Unpronounceable could fill you in?" Casey dragged the doctor back into the treatment room muttering about sharp things overriding patient confidentiality ethics and emerged a few minutes later looking relieved. _He_ could keep secrets.

Casey walked up to where Sarah and Karen were sitting down again. Sarah was beginning to feel the effects of her binge.

"Listen up. I don't know what he said or what she said earlier but I just held the phone for the boy wonder while he sweet-talked Beckman into coming to the wedding. He said he wanted a 'friendly face in the crowd' and I'm to pick her up at the airport in the morning. And she called him 'her asset' and suggested he eat something to calm the jitters."

Sarah Walker blew chunks all over John Casey's legs and shoes whether from shock or illness was never confirmed. The doctor called for maintenance and then gave Walker a shot of B-12 to ward off a hangover and Compazine for her nausea.

Karen looked at Casey in dismay and then started giggling. "Wedding jitters, Major Casey, just wedding jitters."

* * *

**Luxor Hotel  
Las Vegas, NV**

By the time they reached the hotel, the cleanup team had finished. Ironically, Chuck and Sarah had room 8210, right across the hall from Jansen's old room. Chuck stared at the door for a few seconds and then used the key card to enter their room. It was laid out exactly like Jansen's and Chuck excused himself and walked out onto the balcony 'for some air' while Sarah unpacked their bags and went to shower off the smell of her recent binge.

Standing on the balcony the full impact of the day's events stuck him like a bolt of lightening. Beckman's Dog. He'd seen Casey and Karen's files. Beckman's Dogs. They would become just like them. How would Sarah handle being married let alone partnered to such a man? And what had happened to him in such a short time?

Since the party at the Wilders he'd killed men and he'd felt liberated and free if only for a short time. The urge he'd called "The Beast" had awakened when he'd seen what they'd done to Sarah and would do if they'd been allowed to live. It had been easy and he'd felt such joyful release.

And taking Hiroshi's head had been…liberating and again the incredible pulse of pure joy and then when he shot the agent in the testing room…

In every instance he'd been protecting Sarah Walker from harm, either real or potential. His Beast was simply the protective 'sharp edge' of his love for her. That sounded lame even to him but it was the simplest answer. Occam's Razor.

Sarah finished in the shower and put on a short robe and loosely tied the belt. The B-12 shot had worked its magic and she felt undeniably horny for her boyfriend's attention. She'd just be careful of his shoulder. Once again he'd saved her, only this time he'd saved her from herself. If she'd been partnered with Bryce she'd be dreading the evening but looking forward to the end-of-mission high. Karen was right in that. She was a junkie but now her drug of choice was a tall, lanky man in his late 20s who she wouldn't have even noticed in a room with any four other guys three years ago. Now, she would find be able to find him in a football stadium on Super Bowl Sunday.

She walked out onto the balcony and put her arms around his waist and snuggled her face against his back. He was warm and he was hers. She gave him a squeeze then slipped around in front of him and pulled his head down, raising her face for a kiss.

A few minutes later she was missing her robe and enjoying some of the best premarital foreplay she'd ever experienced. His lips were everywhere and he'd found the most sensitive places on her body to tease and caress.

Suddenly he stopped and rolled off the bed and onto his feet. He looked around and then went over to the desk and pulled out the phone directory.

"Sarah, get dressed. We're going shopping. C'mon, honey, we don't have much time here and we have a lot to do."

"Chuck, the only thing I want to 'do' is you. Now, stop this foolishness and get back here and 'do' me. What's gotten into you? Shopping for what?"

"This is Las Vegas. People do crazy things at crazy hours. This city is always open. C'mon, we're going to buy you a wedding dress."

She stopped. A wedding dress?

"Chuck, come here, please. Please?"

He walked over and sat down on the bed. He wanted her to have this. A white dress with all the trimmings. He'd asked a lot of her in the past and he'd ask more in the future. She deserved this on 'her' day. Her wedding day.

"Chuck, that's really sweet of you but I don't need it. Really. I'll have you and our Team and even the Wicked Witch there to watch me marry the man I love. What I'm wearing when I do it isn't important. What's important is that we're getting married, and it's all I've ever wanted, the right man, not the right clothes."

"At least let me buy you a white dress of some kind. You can't get married in jeans or…"

"OK. A dress. A simple white dress, maybe a sleeveless linen dress, simple but elegant. Fine. We'll go with that."

"A woman only gets married for the first time once, Sarah. I want you to have something special." He didn't see her wince and then quickly turn away.

"Let me comb my hair and put on some makeup and we'll go. But if I have to do this, I want Karen there to help me contain your enthusiasm." She also wanted to ask her advice about something, something important that only a woman could understand.

"And Chuck? I already have something special. You."

* * *

Sarah called Karen, explained the dilemma and her need to have 'a girl along' and ignored Casey's loud complaints about being 'interrupted'. Karen laughed and promised to meet them in the lobby in 10 minutes.

While Chuck talked with the concierge about shops open at this hour and he found there was an entire list available since his wasn't the first such request, Sarah took Karen aside and blurted out her deep and dark secret.

"Karen, I've been married before, to an agent I met at the Farm. It lasted 3 months and it was a disaster and we got a divorce. There's nothing in the file because we did it 'off the books'. How do I tell him? He said a woman only gets married for the first time once…that's why he's adamant about the dress. How do I tell him?"

"You don't. You think you're the first woman who's worn white when it should be brown or gray? What he doesn't know won't hurt him or you. What are the chances of this 'agent' surfacing? Of you two having to work with him?"

"None. He's dead. A few years ago."

"So, no problem. Take it to the grave. Look at him. He's so happy. Let him have his joy, Sarah. Please." There was such longing in her voice that Sarah looked at her in shock.

"You – you – love him, don't you? You're in love with Chuck!"

"Shhh. It doesn't matter. I've got Johnny. And Chuck's so much in love with you. But if you ever, ever leave him, Sarah, and Casey and I don't make it, I'll be there in a heartbeat. Fair warning."

Sarah had an Ellie moment. She pulled the shorter agent into a hug and said "I never thanked you for taking such good care of him, for loving him and being there for him. Thank you, Karen, thank you. And I hope you and Casey will recapture what you had. You two deserve each other." Sarah and Karen both winced knowing it could be taken two ways.

"Hey, am I interrupting a 'girly' thing? Do I need to be worried?"

"No, definitely not. I'm pure hetero, Charles, surely you realize that by now?" Karen snarked, channeling Casey.

"Fine. Let's go then. Times a-wasting."

**Las Vegas Airport  
****10:00am**

John Casey stood at the gate waiting for the General to disembark from her flight. He was nervous. She'd been on a rampage the last time they'd spoken and then Chuck had pulled some voodoo and she agreed to come to the wedding. The aircrew was getting off and Casey wondered if she'd missed her flight. He called her.

"Beckman. Secure."

"Casey, secure. General, I'm at the airport and your plane's disembarked all passengers. Are you coming on a later flight?"

"No, Major Casey, I'm right here." Casey whirled around when she tapped him on the shoulder. He was shocked and it must have shown.

"Really, Major, I can look like a real woman at times and this is one of them." Her smile was warm and real, not the smirking death skull she normally wore.

She wore a tan business suit and a blouse that was fashionably unbuttoned displaying a respectable amount of cleavage. _Cleavage?_ Her hair was down and she had on makeup and she looked 10 years younger and…pretty. Her hair was well below her shoulders and he'd never have guessed it was that long since she always kept it in a regulation bun.

"Well, Major, surprised? Cat got your tongue?" She laughed and put her arm through his and motioned him forward. She had strolled right past him and he hadn't recognized her. She was amused and flattered.

"Baggage claim, Major. I'm staying for a few days. I'm meeting someone and we're going to the wedding together and then spending a few days at the Springs."

Casey's mind was teetering on the brink of the abyss. '_Beckman with a boyfriend? OK, that's so wrong. Beckman with a man friend? Better. A really old man friend.'_


	30. No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Thelaststrawepi4

A_**/N: I have glimpsed Hell and it's not a pretty sight. Give to Haiti relief. You have no idea how bad things are there. Don't believe the horror you see on CNN. It's worse. The smell would make a maggot gag and the people have less than nothing. Seriously, if you can give $5 it'll go a long way.  
**_  
This was never supposed to see the light of day. I have flogged my typist (how dare she mock me) for her gall. Seriously, it's not done, a lot of work and rework should have gone into it. It's too flippin' long for one thing.  
For those who struggled through it, my thanks. I guess you saved the Cajun Typist.

Armor-Plated-Rat

* * *

The wedding was pretty much like any other wedding 'Do you…' and 'I do' and then it was over. Chuck kissed Sarah and the Roman Catholic priest at the little chapel smiled and introduced them as 'Mr. and Mrs. Charles Bartowski' to the group of friends.

General Beckman greeted Chuck with a stern gaze that morphed into a brilliant smile and she kissed Sarah on the cheek and cautioned her about letting him get too far out of bounds and handed her an envelope with the NSA logo. Then she and Roane said goodbye to the others and left and Casey swore she'd groped his ass and winked when Karen was talking to Roane.

Casey breathed a sigh of relief and Karen started giggling and then laughing, snorting in a disgusting manner that Chuck had never heard before. He looked at Sarah and smiled that small and private smile he got when he was extraordinarily pleased.

"Aren't you glad I made you go shopping?" She looked beautiful and Karen had done a wonderful job on her hair and makeup.

Casey asked the priest to 'do the honors' and handed over a small digital camera. The quartet posed for several pictures and then several more of just the bride and groom.

And just like that Chuck lost the last vestige of freedom. He was married. He was the Intersect and he was Beckman's Dog and he was Sarah's husband. And he was happy.

**Luxor Hotel  
Las Vegas, NV**

While Chuck was in the shower, Sarah opened the envelope that Diane Beckman had passed her at the wedding. Inside were two first class tickets to Hawaii, confirmed reservations in Kauai for two weeks. A hand-written note in her cramped scrawl informed her that after their return from their honeymoon the team of four should be ready for international operations and move their base of operations to Washington, D.C. She again cautioned Sarah to keep a tight leash on her husband, a very tight leash.

She called Karen and told her about Beckman's 'gift' and that she and Chuck be leaving Vegas in the morning and to prepare for international posting from D.C.

"All four of us, Sarah? You're sure it said all four of us?"

"Yep. 'team of four'."

"OK. We'll have everything tidied up for when you get back. Have a great time and take care of him. Be safe. Casey will be so happy to leave L.A."

Sarah called the front desk to arrange a limo to the airport at 8am and was pleased when the clerk responded with "Of course, Mrs. Bartowski." Other than the priest at the wedding, it was the first time she'd been called Mrs. Bartowski. She liked it a helluva lot better than 'Ms. Walker'.

**Chuck & Sarah's Apartment  
****Los Angeles, CA**

Sarah was jealous as hell of Chuck's brown skin compared to her slightly pink. Two weeks in Hawaii had been just enough time to enjoy each other and the island. They'd filled up two flash sticks with pictures but now it was time to get back to work. Neither would admit it but they were more than ready to get 'back into the game'.

Sarah called Karen when they got in and made arrangements to meet the other half of Team Intersect for breakfast before starting the day.

Chuck demolished a huge breakfast while Sarah and Karen picked at their fruit salad. Casey wasn't much on breakfast and just made smart remarks about Chuck's eating habits. Sitting in the corner gave them some privacy and after discussing the honeymoon, Casey started his brief.

"We're pulling out of here in two weeks. The Garage Castle will be stripped but not demolished. There may be a need for something like it in the future and it should go undiscovered until it's needed again. The General plans to add another team to ours to enable us to rotate missions or beef up for any one mission if needed. The new team will be ours to train after they complete the basic schools."

Karen had avoided any eye contact and Casey had yet to make any real personal comments other than his sarcastic zingers at Chuck's eating. Sarah began to feel uncomfortable with the impersonal reception and glanced at Chuck who seemed oblivious to her vibes.

Casey went on and on about the new facility, available housing and the schedule for moving personal goods. They could have gotten all this from a memo. Something was up and she felt off balance. Finally, she couldn't take it and brought the subject up.

"OK, you two. You're acting weird, even for you. What's the problem? You act like we're not friends as well as Team members. What's up with the impersonal briefing?"

"Sarah, they're uncomfortable with the type of missions we're going to be tackling. Isn't that right, Casey? Dog work doesn't appeal to you anymore, does it?"

"Dog work? What the hell is dog work, Chuck?" Sarah had never heard the term before but it rang a bell.

"We're Beckman's Dogs now. Well, at least you and I are, babe. Isn't that right, Karen? And are you as upset with things as Casey is?"

Casey growled and then spoke up. "You're not ready for Dog Work, Chuck. You haven't been trained and you've lucked out so far. We've talked about it a lot while you two were honeymooning. We think Beckman should send you to training before dumping us in the field. It's not just you I'm worried about, it's the rest of us who might get hurt or killed trying to cover your ass. That's it."

Sarah fixed Chuck with a glare. "Is there something you haven't told me, Chuck? What the hell is Dog Work anyhow?"

"We solve Beckman's problems, Sarah, that's all. That was the deal I made to stay out of a hole and marry you. Casey, I'm sorry you feel I'll be a liability to the Team. Maybe there's some truth to it and merit in going to training. Let's kick this around some more when we're less constrained, OK?"

"Karen, when you met Bryce in Puerto Rico, he said you were Beckman's Dog and were supposed to kill Chuck. Was that why you were assigned as his bodyguard? To kill him if he stepped out of line or became…a problem?" She'd gotten louder as she spoke and Chuck asked her to calm down and hold off on the discussion until they were secure.

Casey turned to Karen and said, "Answer the question, Karen. It's a legitimate question. I told Sarah that Bryce's intel was old. Was I wrong?"

"No. I mean, yes. Your intel was old and out of date. I was reactivated after Chuck and I bonded so well in the first couple of weeks. Beckman called and told me that I was to guard him but 'maintain my objectivity' because Chuck was becoming a liability and if things didn't turn around, it could be a potential problem. She didn't intend for me to…"

Sarah stood up, which was difficult to do in a booth, threw down her fork and demanded that Chuck 'move it or lose it' and bulled her way out of the booth and out of the restaurant.

"I'll be right back, or maybe I won't. I need to calm her down. Karen, you could have phrased that a little more gently, don't you think?" The stare he fixed her with was cold, almost predatory. His beast was stirring for the first time since Vegas.

"Chuck, I…" She was upset and wanted him to understand her position at the time but he just threw $20 on the table and left. Casey looked at her as if she were a stranger.

"You were planning on capping Chuck if Beckman decided he'd become too much of a nuisance? My God, Karen, I thought you'd changed, especially after…I mean… Let's go. Maybe we can salvage something before those two either kill each other or decide _we're_ a liability. We need to have a sit-down with those two where they can't get at weapons."

* * *

Chuck walked quickly through the parking lot and found Sarah sitting in the passenger seat of her Porsche. He got in and turned in the seat and quietly said, "Sarah, you're the most important thing in my life and if I have to sacrifice for you, then I'll do it. I'll go to training, I'll do what has to be done, but _please_, Sarah, don't let this turn what we have into something less."

"Chuck, drive me back to the apartment. There's something I need to show you and then we need to talk. I'm so angry with you right now. How could you make a decision like that without talking to me first? How could you allow her to manipulate you like that? You're not a killer despite what you've done. I know why you acted like you did. Each time I was in possible or real trouble and you acted to protect me. You're a kind and gentle man, not a killer. Now, I'm done talking for now. Drive. And don't ride the clutch."

Karen and Casey walked out of the restaurant just as Sarah's Porsche drove by.

"She must really be upset with him, us, the whole situation. Chuck's driving. That means she either hysterical or…I don't know. She never lets anyone drive her car but her."

"Casey, listen to me. Stop walking and listen, God damn it!" Casey looked at her and sighed. Tears. Always the last assault weapon of a losing argument.

"Ok, I'm listening but keep it down." He had wanted to avoid anything like a confrontation in public.

"I wouldn't have done it. I already told Sarah and I'll tell you. I would have taken him off the grid after he popped those bodyguards in San Pedro if Beckman had ordered a sanction. I couldn't have killed him. Not in cold blood. I – I – I'm not that woman anymore, Johnny. I worked hard to change and I won't go back to the way I was when I lost you. That's it. That's the truth."

"Why couldn't you have said that back in there? It would have saved us a lot of trouble and time." He was getting tired of the spy life. Tired of the lies, dishonor and disdain for all the things he had been brought up to believe were worth dying for.

Casey took out his cell phone and called Chuck but it went to voice mail so either Walker, no, _Bartowski,_ had told him to shut it off or she'd killed him. Or maybe Chuck had the sense to ignore it and deal with the immediate threat in front of him. He didn't know.

**Chuck & Sarah's Apartment**

"Please sit down, Chuck. I'll only be a moment. I have something to show you and then something to ask you." She left him sitting at the kitchen table while she went into the bedroom. She came back with a large shipping carton with FedEx labels and put it down in front of him on the table. She reached into her blouse and pulled out a knife and slit the carton open.

"Go ahead. Open it and take out everything inside."

Chuck opened the flaps and removed the contents. He looked at her curiously, asking her to explain without actually asking her.

"It's us. The new us. All we do is stick our photographs to those documents and get them laminated and then we get transportation and we go. Off the grid. We never look back – or come back – ever."

He sat looking at the documents, passports, drivers licenses, credit cards, utility bills, tax returns, all the things that make people who they are. There were stacks of US currency and two weapons. There were photographs of people who would become their history, parents, grandparents, and siblings.

He steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them. "Or?"

"Or we do our jobs - hoping we survive, praying one of us doesn't fall - until things become so bad one of us leaves the other. We'll change, Chuck, become different people than we were when we put on these rings."

"No other options? Just these two?"

"None that I can see or that I've heard of. I should have done this right after the Wilder affair. When you still were innocent and believed that Good would always triumph over Evil if enough people cared. Too late now, though. You've seen what it really is, this fight to protect the 'Greater Good', and like everything else you do, you've thrown yourself into the fray without hesitation or reservation. It's one of the most endearing and aggravating things I love about you, Chuck."

"There is a third option. I stay. You use the box. Beckman will agree to 'forget' about you. She needs me now more than ever. I'll make it a condition of 'continued cooperation'. In six months or a year you contact me and let me know where you are and …"

"No! We stay together. Either here or wherever, but we stay together. We'll stay Chuck & Sarah off missions. We'll hang on to who we are and what we mean to each other. Maybe we can beat it. I won't have you ending up like Casey was before Karen came back. And that's exactly who you'll become, it's who I would have become if I hadn't committed myself to us."

The doorbell rang and Chuck went to answer it. Casey and Karen walked in and Karen went over to Sarah and started whispering and Sarah hugged her.

Chuck looked at Casey, a question in his eyes.

"Well, Chuck, you and Sarah got room for two more in that box?"

END

**_To Nicole: Thanks baby for all the hard work figuring out the code. Now, no more excuses. Finish the damned dissertation so I can brag on ya. J._**


End file.
